


Death Game By SIMulation

by AmateurScribes



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Your Turn To Die Fusion, Character Death, Death, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Murder, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, death game, death trap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23306833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmateurScribes/pseuds/AmateurScribes
Summary: All Tucker wanted to do after losing Church is have a nice, relaxing retirement surrounded by the asshole idiots that he just somehow managed to make his family.The collar around his, and the other's, neck say otherwise.
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Dick Simmons & Lavernius Tucker, Lavernius Tucker & Agent Washington
Comments: 60
Kudos: 43





	1. Hands From Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Ok so, I know I shouldn't be starting a whole new series, but I just got so excited! This AU has been something that I've been thinking about ever since I played Your Turn To Die and I couldn't let the idea die so I went ahead and wrote it! Plus, plus, my transfer application got accepted by this really hard to get into SUNY college and I'm so excited to finally get back on the right track in life I couldn't stop myself from going ahead and start writing this!
> 
> No beta, but come on y'all this is me talking here, y'all know the drill. Very important notes at the end, but I hope you guys all enjoy this!

After everything that they've been through, Tucker's just glad that they had each other for it all.

He's not sure why he thinks this, really the thoughts come out of nowhere. And it's totally unlike him to be introspective and shit.

Well, maybe not too unexpected. He's had too much time to think about things ever since...

Ever since Church passed away. For the last time, with no way to come back from it.

He hadn't been expecting it- well, none of them had, really.

The pure exhilaration he had felt wearing the Meta's suit and taking down all of those Charon mooks like bowling pins was incomparable to the immediate grief he was crushed under when he realized that Church wasn't there to share the victory with them. 

It's been some time since then, and the others had mostly recovered from whatever bumps and craps they got during that final stand. Tucker himself had fared the best out of all of them, and he spent most of the time waiting for everyone to get out of the make-shift hospital thinking about the group as a whole.

And how much he would miss them all if they died permanently too.

So yeah, he's glad to have been by their side for all of these wacky adventures. But he's even more glad that everything is all over and done with, nothing more could possibly happen to them- their luck as a whole was bad but not nearly  _ that _ bad.

Looking at the construction for what will surely be coined New Armonia, he takes in a deep breath and enjoys the fact that soon all of them would be going to a quaint little moon for retirement. When Kimball had told them that she managed to acquire a moon  _ all to themselves _ he along with the others had gotten so goddamn excited.

Because who  _ wouldn't _ get pumped up at the idea that they had a whole damn moon with no one else to bother them on? Tucker could just imagine all the delightful and chaotic shenanigans they could get up to when left on their lonesome.

It had taken some time for Kimball to arrange this set up for them, but they didn't mind all that much since that meant they had some time to touch base with everyone after literally liberating their planet. It felt  _ good _ to be recognized as planetary heroes, felt a little more personal than when they were recognized for helping to take down Project Freelancer- especially since Carolina did most of the legwork in that particular escapade.

But now it was time for them to finally leave Chorus behind and move on to better and hopefully better futures.

Hearing footsteps approaching behind him, he turned around to greet Grif with a wide grin.

"Hey, Tucker, we're about to head out in a few," the orange soldier said. "Me and the other Reds are gonna go now to make sure things all check out on the moon."

Arching a brow, Tucker asks, "Oh, really now? Are you sure you're not going ahead for the sole purpose of scoping out the food pantry."

"Perhaps, perhaps not, guess that's just something you'll have to find out when you and the other Blues get there," even behind his helmet, Tucker could tell that Grif was giving him a smug and lazy smile.

"Leave some for the rest of us," Tucker joked. "Are Wash and Carolina going with you guys too?"

"Just Carolina," Grif nodded. "I think she's just going to make sure we- mainly Sarge- behave ourselves. Although if you asked me, I think she wants to get off this planet more than the rest of us."

It didn't need to be said why Tucker felt a small pang in his heart at the reason unsaid.

"Yeah," he said, voice slightly rough. Clearing his throat to shake away his thoughts, he added, "We'll be right behind you guys, probably a day or so. I wanna talk to Kimball one last time, thank her for the moon and all."

"Yeah, tell her bye from all of the Reds too," Grif waved as he turned around. "See you in a day or two, Tucker."

"Right back at you," Tucker waved back, turning towards the construction where he could glimpse Palomo and Jensen huddled together as they ferried supplies towards the more experienced repairmen.

He'd miss the sight of this planet and its people. Chorus really was beautiful, but hauntingly so it felt empty now.

It was time for a change, and Tucker was looking forward to the future.

* * *

Goodbyes to Kimball and Gray all said and down, all that was left was to wait for the transport ship to take them to Iris.

Caboose seemed excited at least, and this was the first time that Tucker had seen him smile since the Battle for Chorus.

"-can we do movie nights again? We can even watch Reserved Dogs like you like to watch, Tucker!" Caboose rattled off, bringing Tucker into the conversation that he had only been half-listening to.

"Reservoir Dogs, Caboose," he corrected. "And we can watch other things now- even though that movie is the best hands down- fuck, Kimball probably sported us a big ass TV! We could watch whatever we wanted!"

"Gasp!" Caboose sounded out. "Do you mean we can watch-"

"Yes, Caboose," Tucker interrupted. "That means we can watch all those weird reality shows that you like to watch."

Caboose was silent for a moment before announcing, "I am  _ very _ pleased with this."

"Don't get too crazy now," Wash joked, coming back into the back cabin from where he had been sequestered with the pilot. "We don't even know  _ if _ there's a TV."

"How could Kimball- our darling general, who loves us very much, enough to give us our own damn moon-  _ not _ give us a TV?" Tucker challenged. "If there's not at  _ least _ eight TV's- because fuck you guys, I am  _ not _ sharing- then I will be heavily disappointed."

"She's not made of money, you know," Wash said, but his tone was airy and light. "How she even managed to pull this together, man, I don't even know."

"Hey, don't question the ways of Kimball, she works in mysterious ways," he said, relaxing in his seat. "How much longer till we get there? I wanna explore somewhere new by now!"

"Soon," Wash answered. "Probably just a few more minutes, that's why I came back here."

Leaning his head against the back of the seat, Tucker could just imagine what the moon must look like. Beautiful hopefully, with enough space to have some me-time without having someone stumble upon him. He made do in the past with his rock back in Blood Gulch, but a luxury upgrade is definitely something that he deserves.

Tucker wondered if the moon had a beach. Now  _ that _ would be something, he could hardly remember the last time he went swimming, Blood Gulch had no real huge body of water, then he got stuck in a desert, and after that, it was all Freelancer nonsense. The water on Chorus was mostly irradiated and probably had a higher chance of turning him bright green than anything else, and that was not a chance he was going to take.

His head knocks against the headrest and given by the way that Caboose and Wash were standing up, and because he wasn't an idiot, he knew that they made it.

Getting out of his seat, he practically vibrated from excitement and too much energy given that he had been cooped up in the ship for a long ass time by now.

When sunlight started to flood the cabin, as the door to the hanger began to open, he grinned at the sight of a bright sunny day.

Once the landing platform was fully down, Tucker rushed off of it to gaze at the moon.

It was bright, lush green fields as far as his eyes could see, and in the distance, he could even see the beginnings of a beach and a shoreline that glimmered like diamonds. To which, all he could think was  _ fuck yeah. _

The sight that took up most of his attention however, were the two large apartment complex buildings side by side.

"Look at those rocks!" Caboose said loud as hell before bounding off towards the mountainside, completely ignoring the buildings.

"Kimball must have made two so that it'd be the Reds against the Blues all over again," Tucker smirked. "Oh, this retirement is about to get fucking  _ lit." _

Wash didn't really say anything, looking around in a more reserved manner than Tucker had done. 

"No..." he finally said at last. "Something isn't right."

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked, turning towards the agent. "What? Open fields not really your thing?"

"No, it's not that," Wash shook his head. "Where are the Reds and Carolina?"

"Probably enjoying their retirement, like we should be doing," Tucker said, but at noticing how Wash didn't relax he added, "They probably couldn't hear us."

"You know as much as I do that the airship that we came here on is loud,  _ and _ really visible given the clear sky," Wash countered.

Now that he mentioned it, the moon was really quiet. And this was the Reds that they were dealing with, the one thing they excelled at was being loud and- and showing up at just the right... moment...

Wash had a point, something was up.

"I'm going to check the left apartment, you take the right," Wash ordered, sprinting over towards the building complex.

"Caboose!" Tucker called out to the Blue who had missed the whole interaction. "Stick close by, this place isn't safe!"

Caboose hurried over to him, curiously asking, "What's going on?"

"I don't know, and fuck, does not knowing ruin my whole goddamn day," he hissed, tentatively moving towards the right apartment. This was exactly what he  _ didn't _ need right now, he was supposed to have come off of the airship ready to party and now he had to save the Reds from something undoubtedly  _ stupid. _

Pushing open the door with the tip of his gun, Tucker peered around the entrance to see if anyone was out in the open. Nope, nothing that he could see.

Moving further into the building, Caboose right on his tail, he made his way into the next room, trying to find some sort of struggle.

Nothing still. But the silence of the building was starting to get to him, and he felt himself grow tense and rigid with every room that came up empty.

It didn't take long for them to reach the top floor, to which Tucker was convinced that the Reds were just being assholes and playing some sort of prank on them. They probably roped Carolina into it too, how they did that he had no idea.

Easing up his guard, he left Caboose to his own devices and started going through the rooms to see if he had by some chance missed  _ something. _ One of them was locked, but he didn't think anything of it considering nothing else had come up yet.

"This is ridiculous," he groaned. "Here I am all tense for what? The Reds just being assholes. Right, Caboose?"

_ CRASH. _

Whirling around, gun up and eyes blown wide, he listened for any other noise.

"Caboose?" he called out. "Come on, bud, just say that you broke something, even blame it on me."

Moving forward and back into the hallway, he couldn't see Caboose anywhere.

Dammit! This is why splitting up always backfires, he should have been paying attention to Caboose this whole damn time then he wouldn't have to deal with-

A clicking sound from behind him had him turning around completely, staring at the door at the end of the hallway that had been previously locked.

Oh, he knew he shouldn't do what he was about to do. That's literally how people die in fucking horror movies, he should be smarter than this. 

But he had to find Caboose. And the Reds- and part of his mind quietly reminds him that Wash was left to his own devices too, and he had no way of knowing whether he was fine too.

Reaching out for the doorknob, he braced himself for a fight, not sure of what could be laying behind that door.

Pushing the door open, he was hoping that the force would knockback or surprise whoever had decided to fuck with the Reds and Blues while they had literally  _ just _ begun their vacation.

But he was greeted to a  _ pitch-black _ room, no light entering it at all- not even from the hallway. Confused on how that could be possible, he lowered his gun slightly, leaning his head past the door frame to see if it was just some sort of trick of the light.

Just as he did so, hands- so many goddamn hands- reached out from the void and grabbed at his armor yanking on him to envelop him into inky depths.

He hardly had a chance as his mind snapped to black too.

* * *

Waking up with a gasp and a jolt, he breathes harshly trying to move his head but held back by fucking something.

"What the fuck?" he grunted, trying to move his limbs, only managing to jerk them upwards and that was it. He couldn't even lift his head to see what was holding him down- straps if he had to take a guess, given the way he could feel the cool band across his forehead.

Wait-

Straining his limbs once more, he came to the solid conclusion, that whoever had kidnapped him and removed him of his armor.

"What the hell is this supposed to be?!" he yelled out in the hopes that his captors could hear him. He continued to struggle against the binds, his body thumping against the table or whatever the hell he was strapped against.

"Tucker?!" a shocked, but familiar, voice called out to him, just to his right.

Eyes widening, he called back, "Simmons? You're here too?"

"Where the hell is  _ here?!" _ Simmons’ voice cracked, and Tucker could tell that he was freaking out. "What's going on?"

"That's what I want to know!" he managed to turn his head slightly, just enough so that he could divert his eyes to his fellow soldier. 

He wasn't surprised to see that Simmons too was stripped of his armor, but he was horrified to notice-

"They took your fucking arm dude!" Tucker exclaimed. He, of course, was talking about Simmons’ cyborg one, but seeing the maroon soldier without it was jarring.

"I fucking  _ noticed," _ Simmons snapped, eyes narrowing as he too turned as best he could towards Tucker.

Tucker opened his mouth to snark right back at him, when a ringing sound interrupted whatever he was going to say.

"What's that?" Simmons’ eyes darted over the room trying to see where the sound could be coming from.

"Beats me," Tucker responded, his mouth going dry, but a wave of anger rose in him at the realization that this must be their captors finally getting ready to introduce themselves.

A feminine voice entered the room, speaking,  _ "Beginning voiced guidance." _

Raising his eyebrows, Tucker didn't have a moment to ponder what that could possibly mean when the voice continued.

_ "The First Trial will now begin." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok first things first, some major things I need to establish for clarity, for if you do or don't know much about the game this is taking inspiration from.
> 
> First, this is not a direct AU, I don't like doing those because it feels lazy, so, just like my T&B Fusion AU, this AU will take a lot of the core foundations from Your Turn to Die, but still have a lot of my own personal twists to it to make it exciting for both people new to the game and those who have played. I have also taken some inspiration from the manga so far, as it has additional scenes different from the game itself too.
> 
> Secondly, I'm not sure how long this will take me to write, but chances are I'm gonna finish this fic way before the game is actually finished as chapter 3, part 1 still hasn't been completely translated into English, and that's not even considering that part 2 will take months to complete. As such, I am interpreting my own personal theories about what's happening in the game here. Very likely this will not match up with what's actually going on in the game's plot, but I think this lends itself into my first point well enough.
> 
> And thirdly, I am not reusing the game's antagonists here- including the Dolls. What I have done is made Dolls based on myself and other people in the fandom. Hopefully, you guys will find this enjoyable as a neat little meta-reference and the such. Don't worry I asked for permission to include these people into the fic!
> 
> And that's about it! If you have any questions, don't be afraid to shoot me a message over at my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


	2. The First Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"By all means, please enjoy this thrill with all your body and soul,"_ the voice continued. _"The time limit is a healthy five minutes. And note that there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, I just had to get this chapter out as soon as possible, I'm much too excited about this story! Somehow I managed to write this inbetweening crying about the SU:F finale, man, talk about good angst. I was thinking perhaps I could make illustrations for this story, visuals would be so helpful to make a much bigger, heh, _impact,_ ya know?
> 
> A Beta I have naught, all mistakes are my own, I hope you guys enjoy this update!

_ 'First Trial'- _ what the fuck was any of that?!

The voice continued before he could demand to know just what the fuck was going on,  _ "Simmons and Tucker. Find the key hidden in this room. Then, remove your restraints. If you cannot do so before the time limit expires, the device on the beds will activate..." _

Immediately his heart started to race, because what type of fuckery was this? What type of games were their captors trying to play, but more importantly, what did the voice mean by the  _ device _ on the fucking  _ bed _ that they were currently  _ strapped to? _

He didn't have to wait more than a second before the voice answered for him,  _ "And your bodies will be crushed with a thud." _

"What?!" Simmons shrieked, looking panicked, body jolting.

Whereas Simmons had reacted vocally, Tucker felt as though there was white noise filling the room and invading his thoughts.

_ "By all means, please enjoy this thrill with all your body and soul," _ the voice continued.  _ "The time limit is a healthy five minutes. And note that there is only one key, so please discuss who will use it." _

With that said, the voice went quiet, and Tucker had a feeling that their time limit had already started.

Shit.  _ SHIT. _

Key, they had to find a key, but where- how?! Their arms were strapped down?! This wasn't fair!

Looking over at Simmons, he saw how the other man was panicking visibly.

"Simmons-" his throat went dry when he noticed something that he hadn't seen before.

There was something red and lodged into Simmons’ cybernetic socket.  _ There was something there. _

"I think they stuck the key into your socket," Tucker exclaimed. "Fucking assholes, in plain sight but we can't reach it!"

"Really?" Simmons' eyes widened, and he  _ reached over _ with his right hand to ghost over the socket, searching for it.

"What is this bullshit!" Tucker bitched. "Both my arms are tied down, but you got at least an arm! The amount of unfairness in this whole thing is astonishing!"

"Shut up, Tucker," Simmons mumbled, contorting his arm as best as he could so that he could pry out the key. "I'm trying to focus on saving our lives! Ha, got it!"

He held up the red key up for Tucker to see.

But that didn't stop the dread that filled his body as he said, "There's only one key, Simmons."

Simmons paused but only briefly, and Tucker could see the hesitation in his body at that.

Tucker doesn't really wanna die. But there's nothing he could do with that key anyways.

"Use it," he said, looking away from Simmons. "Get out of here and save everyone else too."

He closed his eyes and waited as precious seconds passed by, he didn't know what to imagine

"No," Simmons spoke, looking determined. "That's bullshit."

"Simmons-" he opened his eyes, he didn't want this to be harder than it was.

"No, shut up, Tucker," Simmons hissed as he started to unlock his claps. "The key is hidden, right? This was in plain sight- and the voice said we could both escape so there's gotta be a second key somewhere in here!"

Tucker didn't know about that, because from the way this morbid trial had already presented itself it was obviously rigged for Tucker to die.

But, he couldn't be thinking like that now.

Instead, he chose to say, "I trust you, Simmons. My life is literally in your fucking hands now."

Simmons got off of the table, looked up in determination, before immediately blanching and covering his mouth with his one available hand, exclaiming, "Oh-  _ fuck!" _

"What?! What's wrong," Tucker struggled, trying to see if he could sneak a glance at what Simmons saw.

"Nothing! It was nothing!" Simmons squeaked, acting a bit more frantic than the cool persona he had briefly exhibited. "There are things in this room! There's gotta be a key somewhere."

He dashed around the room, and Tucker, knowing he might just die from the fear-cursed curiosity, called out, "Tell me what you're doing, maybe I can help!"

"There's six cabinets in the room, and what looks like a medicine cabinet with an electronic padlock on the wall," Simmons announced.

Tucker could hear the frantic opening of a metal drawer before it was slammed closed and another opened up.

"Wha- there's a book?!" Simmons exclaimed.

"A book?" Tucker asked in disbelief. How was a book supposed to help him? "What book?!"

_ "Of Mice and Men, _ I'm taking it anyway," the maroon soldier said, and Tucker could hear his footsteps against the floor as he rushed to the next cabinet. 

There were sounds of drawers opening and Simmons said that he had found  _ another _ fucking book, this time  _ The House of the Scorpion. _

And that continued for every single cabinet that they found, all but one had just a single book in it. The last one that Simmons opened had a blank journal in it, but flipping through the pages didn't reveal a code for the padlock.

Tucker's heart began to speed up, because he had no idea how much time he had left before he fucking  _ died, _ and the suspense was absolutely  _ killing _ him at this point.

"Fuck-  _ FUCK," _ Simmons panicked. "There's- there's gotta be something I can do with these books. Some sort of code, something I can put into the padlock."

Tucker couldn't help much, he couldn't see a damn thing, and as time ticked by the white noise returned and breathing back a little harder.

_ "Of Mice and Men, House of the Scorpion, Slaughterhouse-Five, Catcher in the Rye, Up Above & Down Below, Room," _ Simmons listed off. "Maybe their Dewey Decimal numbers? Argh, no! That would be too much- fuck, wait, no, it's letter-based only. Maybe the first letter of the author’s name?"

Tucker listened as best as he could as Simmons tried to figure out the puzzle.

"But that doesn't spell anything! Puzzles usually have a meaning," Simmons snapped, voice getting quicker as he continued. "Maybe the first letters of the titles? O- H- S- C- U- R? No, I have to scramble it, but into what word?!"

Then, just as he exclaimed that the light in the room turned red. Tucker didn't need to be a genius to guess that they were in the final minute. He started to get tunnel vision, and Simmons sounded fainter and fainter.

"Oh shit! Ok- think- H- O- S- C- U- R-  _ NO," _ he said frantically. "C- H- O- R-  _ OH! _ I'm an  _ idiot!" _

By this point Tucker could only hear his own breathing, his heart pumping frantically as he knew that he was going to die. 

A sound accompanied the last few seconds, and he could practically see the clock counting down the seconds until he ceased to exist, bright and horrifying behind his eyelids.

"Tucker!" Simmons called out, and he thought he heard the sound of his clasps being released before he was dragged off of the bed.

But a sound that he did hear clearly was the disgusting sound of the bed ripping in half and smashing it's two parts against each other.

Still feeling lightheaded and his vision cloudy, it took him a while to get back his senses, slowly looking up at Simmons who cradled him in his arm.

The Red's forehead was covered in sweat droplets that slowly traveled down his temple, and Simmons looked just as freaked out as he had sounded.

"That- ha," Tucker huffed out. "That was- heh- a close one."

"You're fucking telling me," Simmons said, licking his lips as he continued to stare at the bed.

"Well, I don't know about you," Tucker took in more gulps of air, just happy for the moment that his lungs could still fucking  _ do that. _ "I'm ready to get the fuck out of this room."

"Agreed," Simmons nodded, his own breath coming out in shudders. 

The two of them struggled to get up together- Tucker's legs weak and shaking from the near-death experience and Simmons only having one arm to support both himself and Tucker- but when they did Tucker threw his arm around Simmons back.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. If it wasn't for Simmons’ quick thinking and acting he would have died. Even he could acknowledge this.

"You would have done the same for me," Simmons said, but his eyes flicked over to one of the walls.

Following his line of sight, Tucker was greeted with a sight that almost brought him down to his knees again.

There had been a window in the room the whole time, and on the other side was a hospital bed very similar to the ones in their room, collapsed much the same that Tucker's had been.

The only difference being the limp arm stuck between the two pieces, blood splattering on the white surface and dripping down to the ground.

They couldn't even tell who it possibly was. Tucker hoped as much as he could that it wasn't someone that they knew.

Stumbling through the room, Simmons paused to pick up the journal that hadn't come in handy during the puzzle.

"What was the code," Tucker asked, curiously, peering at the open medicine cabinet that must have held the second key.

Simmons stopped for just a second, his vision getting cloudy, before he answered him, "It- it was  _ Chorus. _ The book titles spelled out Chorus."

Chorus. That couldn't have just been randomized.

Whoever had them at the moment must have done their fucking research.

"Shit," Tucker said.

"Yeah," Simmons agreed with him, swallowing harshly. "Do- do you think that the others had to do something similar to what we had to do."

"Hopefully, not," he shook his head. "I- we cut it really fucking close, Simmons."

"I know," Simmons sighed. "The door wasn't locked- I tried to open it- just to see if it would! I wasn't gonna leave you behind, I swear-"

"I believe you, man," Tucker reassured. "You literally just saved my skin, that's enough proof for me."

Clearing his throat, Simmons moved towards the door prompting Tucker to follow along with him, "A-anyways, when I opened the cabinet, I something click, but I don't think it actually did anything. Fuck for all I know it might have locked us in here."

"Only one way to tell," Tucker said as he reached out to open the door, knowing that Simmons was currently holding the journal.

Sure enough, the door opened and revealed a pitch-black hallway.

Stepping out into the hallway, Tucker felt confident enough to stand on his own legs now, unwrapping his arm off of Simmons.

Looking both ways down the hallways, Tucker was unsure how to proceed.

"We should move alongside the walls," Simmons piped up. "Maybe it'll lead to a way out of here."

"Right," he said, pushing his hand against the cool wall. 

Heading to the left led to a dead end, so the two of them backtracked in the other direction.

It didn't feel like they were making any progress as they continued to walk down the hallway.

Looking behind him to where he sure Simmons was, he asked, 'Don't you have a robot eye? Can't you see through this dark?"

"I think they'd did something to it," Simmons muttered. "It's... muted. Probably didn't want it to give me an unfair advantage, just like my arm."

"That... makes sense," Tucker felt a little stupid asking, Simmons would have said something if he could see through this fucking abyss.

Before they could move forward, they heard something shift in front of them, wind rushing up towards them from the floor.

"What the-" Tucker started to say before he was interrupted by giggling.

Turning behind him, he could only vaguely see a human-esque form covering their mouth with a hand, grinning at the two of them.

"Hurry on now! Can't miss the big reception," the figure exclaimed in a feminine voice, and Tucker couldn't even respond before he felt a gloved hand shove him down the open chasm.

Yelling in shock, followed by Simmons yell as well, he felt the wind whip by him as they fell to what Tucker could only figure was their death. 

The strain from being in one deadly situation to another was too much for Tucker's body to handle, and the toll of it all formed in his vision fading to black alongside all other of his senses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who've played the game, you might notice some additions that weren't part of the original puzzle foundation. This is about the only puzzle that I'll mimic very closely, the rest I'll do my best to be creative with! Well, as I was saying, I actually took in some elements from the manga- the window that show's Kanna's sister getting killed for one, and the other was Ranger being the one to push the mains at the end of the Trial. How interesting that these were added to the manga, I had to add those elements here too!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, if you'd like to find me, you can contact me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all of them had collars wrapped snug and tight around their necks.
> 
> Reaching up, his fingers ghosted upon a collar on his neck too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy RvB Day everyone! I was a little worried that I wouldn't get this one done on time for today, but I managed! 
> 
> Beta, I say as I take a slow drag of my cigarette, now that's something I've had once every ten years. All mistakes are my own, I hope you all enjoy!

Waking up again, with a pain pounding against his skull, is not fucking pleasant.

And considering that this was the second time he had been knocked it with so little time in between, he's pretty sure he's justified in being pissed the fuck off as soon as he blearily opened his eyes.

Groaning against the flood of lights that pierce his eyes, he brings his hand up to his face to massage it, and look at that. His hands weren't _tied down_ this time. He supposes he should thank his captors for allowing him that at the very least but he would rather drink dog piss, so no. Tucker would not be thanking them for jack fucking shit.

"Tucker," a voice speaks to him, shaking him as well, which was not only annoying but also unnecessary. _"Get up."_

"Ugh, what?" he hisses through the pain, but he opens his eyes up fully and raises from his position crumbled against the ground.

Looking around he is baffled to see the weirdest fucking room layout possibly _ever._ Bright red and blue grid lines ran across the floor, the walls, and the ceiling too. The main color of the room, however, was _purple._

At the very end of the otherwise empty room were two doors and on the wall to the left of where he was looking was one door. He hadn't the faintest idea where they could lead, or even if he could go in there at all.

In the middle of the room, there were people.

It was strange, he had to admit, seeing so many people gathered in one spot who didn't have any armor on, but still, he was able to recognize a majority of them. From what he could glance, there were three people who he didn't know at all.

And all of them had collars wrapped snug and tight around their necks.

Reaching up, his fingers ghosted upon a collar on his neck too.

When... when did that get there?!

"Tucker?" the voice brings him out of his thoughts, and he turns towards the speaker, his eyes landing squarely on the freckled bridge of Simmons' nose.

"Simmons, what's..." he trails off. He doesn't even know where to start, a million questions on the tip of his tongue.

"I don't know," Simmons admits, looking over at the group. "I stayed here to make sure you would wake up. I'm not too sure what they're talking about."

Getting up on wobbled legs, Tucker reached out and extended his hand towards Simmons to help him up too.

"Let's go get to the bottom of this whole thing," Tucker says confidently.

The two of them make their way unsteadily towards the others. As they get closer they can hear snippets of the conversation a little better, and Tucker has no idea what kind of conflict was possibly going down.

There's a sense of relief that floods his body as Tucker watches Wash step up in the group with a stern look on his face, "Listen, I get that you're upset-"

"Upset, upset doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling," the first unknown man says, his black hair matted to his forehead. The two other unknown men flank behind him, not saying anything, but one looks confused and the other grim. "I've been telling you that your precious UNSC is behind all of this, but you still don't believe me-"

"So far you haven't really given me a reason to trust you," Wash frowns, but Tucker can tell he's trying to pacify the situation as best he can. "But now's not the time to start going for each other's throats. You don't have any evidence so far that the UNSC is behind this-"

To the left there's a separate conversation going on completely, and more relief floods through him as he recognizes Carolina with Caboose, trying to ask, "Caboose, come on buddy, I just want to know what the box is for."

Caboose shakes his head, saying, "Ah, _technically_ I was told _not_ to share the present with anyone yet, so, no- even though you can be very scary sometimes, I can't give you the present yet."

Sighing and bringing a hand up to pinch at the bridge of her nose, she grits her teeth and tries to convince him, _"Who_ told you not to share the present?"

"The very nice lady did," Caboose answered unhelpfully.

And finally, on the right of the group, there are only two individuals left. 

"Grif, I need you to work with me here," Doc offers up the other man a weak smile. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

But the only other Red in the room doesn't respond, he just continued to sit there on the ground, staring out towards nothing and shaking. The more concerning aspect of his appearance were the dark bags sunken into his skin underneath his eyes, and the way that his pupil had dilated down into a pinprick, it was like he didn't even have one.

Most shocking of all was how his hetero-chromatic eyes appeared so _lifeless._

What the fuck had happened to him?

"Grif!" Simmons yells out in concern, announcing their presence to the rest of the group, stopping all other conversations.

He tried rushing over to the other Red, who hadn't even acknowledged that he heard anything. 

The unknown man who had been arguing with Wash stepped in front of Simmons before he could reach Grif, both hands up in a placating manner, and a charming smile on his face that hadn't been there before.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man said. "The last time someone tried approaching him quickly he passed out. And I think we waited long enough for everyone to be awake by now, wouldn't you say?"

Simmons stopped, mouth taunt in a way that Tucker just knew that he wanted to tell the other man to back off, but after glancing down at Grif again, he conceded.

"Who the hell even are you," Simmons asked, mouth pulling up only slightly in a sneer, and Tucker just has a feeling that he was entering one of his Petty-Bitch-Fits.

"Oh, of course, where are my manners," the man’s unctuous smile didn't falter at the tone of Simmons' voice, and he even went so far as to extend his hand towards the other man to shake it. "My name is Mark Temple, I'm a SIM Trooper, just like you."

Simmons looked like he didn't want to touch the other man, but not wanting to be rude either clasped at it to shake it.

But before he could open his mouth, this _Temple_ character, stepped in for him, "And of course, I already know who you are! Dick Simmons of the Reds and Blues. Who doesn't know who any of you are? _'Colorful Space Marines Stop Corruption'-_ that certainly put you all under the spotlight."

They released each other's grip, and Simmons discreetly wiped his hand against his leg, trying to rub off the other man's touch.

Temple's face finally lost it's smile as he turned back towards Wash, saying, "Perhaps under the _wrong_ person's spotlight."

Wash scowled but ignored him for the moment, heading towards Tucker to clap his shoulder and say, "I'm glad you're safe."

"Right back at you," Tucker admitted with no shame. "Wash, what the hell is even going on? First, we get knocked out and strapped to a death trap, next we're here."

He was hoping that the Freelancer would have more of a grasp on their situation than he had, but his hopes were dashed when Wash shook his head.

"We're about as lost as you are right now," Wash admitted. "The closest thing we have to a clue for what's going on is that box that Caboose is holding on to and this journal that the uh... what was your name again?"

He was addressing the man to the right of Temple, older looking than everyone else in the room, and he kinda reminded Tucker of-

"Surge," the man gruffed. "Don't worry your pretty little head about me, I got nothing the likes of you wants."

_Sarge._

Looking at the lifeless Grif and Simmons who was probably starting to come to the same conclusion as him.

Where were the other Reds?

"See, that's the thing, you actually do have something we want," Wash looks a single thread away from snapping. "That journal that you're holding is about one of the only clues we have on to who has us or what their motive even is."

"Journal?" Tucker blinks. Turning towards Simmons he asks, "Didn't we get one of those too?"

"Oh, right!" Simmons light up in remembrance. "I left it over there, I'll go get it now."

The maroon soldier jogged over to where they were previously situated, bent over to pick up the forgotten journal, then quickly returned.

"Uh, Surge? Was it?" Simmons swallowed harshly as he looked at the other man. "Does- does your journal look the same as this?"

He held out the journal for the scrutiny of Surge, who peered at it but didn't reach out to take it. Likely paranoid that that would invite them to take his journal in return.

"Looks like it," the other man said. "Is it as blank as a newborn's bottom?"

"Uh, just about," Simmons said, pulling it back towards him. "Why would we both have the same journal, unless- did you have a similar First Trial that we did?"

If Surge was closed off before, now he was locked up as tightly as Alcatraz.

"What's it to you," Surge glared at them.

"I'm just trying to put the small pieces that we have together," Simmons said, not backing down under the glower of the other man. "Because there was a window in our room that connected to another, and we saw a dead body."

"Wait, wait," Carolina's eyes widened, and this was one of the few times that Tucker saw her not nearly as composed as normal. "Dead body? Do you mean that people have _already_ died?"

"Did we not all have the same trial?" Tucker asked, gauging the looks on everyone else's face.

He got a collection of shaking heads, and a few worried looks from some individuals.

"But why make it different?" Simmons asked, bringing the journal up to his lips to tap against them in thought. "So, Surge, you really did have the same First Trial as us, didn't you?"

Grumbling to himself, but after Temple gave him a cutting look, Surge finally answered Simmons, "Yer right about me having the same First Trial, tied to the beds and whatnot. I had the key on hand and couldn't let that damn Blue have it... I really thought I could solve the puzzle on my own, but I'm no good at word scrambles."

"Blue... blue..." Simmons muttered after hearing that. Then his eyes raised towards Tucker, and he gestured towards him, "Blue! That's it!"

Darting his eyes around, Tucker tried to catch up to the same wavelength as the other man.

"Red vs Blue," Simmons said gesturing between himself and Tucker. "And I'm willing to bet you're a Red."

"They put one Red and one Blue together, so what," Temple said, raising an eyebrow. "The teams aren't real so why should it matter."

"Because it was a test of trust," Simmons explained. "At least, that version of the First Trial was. Maybe our captors wanted to see if color bias still existed?"

"You might be on to something," Tucker said, feeling like for once he was starting to understand something. "I mean, look at the room- there's elements of Red and Blue everywhere."

"So this whole thing was designed for us specifically," Simmons concluded.

"For us SIM Troopers you mean," Temple butted, then glanced at the Freelancers in the room. "Not all of us here are considered a Red or a Blue."

"What's that supposed to mean," Carolina tersely said.

"Nothing at all, I'm simply pointing out a fact," Temple placated.

Wanting to move on from the subject, Simmons continued on, "So that answers the journals but... there's still so many more questions to be had."

"Like what's in this _box,"_ Caboose chirped, voice happy as can be, raising said box in the air.

"Ooh, like a pinata," the last unnamed individual cheered, his attitude very much akin to Cabooses.

"Or a wedding cake!" now that he had someone to bounce ideas off of, Caboose started to ramp up his nonsense.

"Or an _April Fools_ prank!" the man blurted out. "It might be filled with bees! Or scorpions!"

"Ah, yes! That would be amazing!" Caboose exclaimed, as if they hadn't been captured at all and that this was just a fun get together.

"Ugh, am I gonna have to hear stupid in _stereo,"_ Tucker groaned, already having a feeling on where that dynamic was gonna go.

"We can finally open it now! Everyone is awake," Caboose explained. "The lady from the ceiling told me that this was going to be my first trail mix, and I have shaken this box so much. It definitely has something inside it."

"Finally," Carolina exhaled. "Caboose, _now_ can I see the box."

"Yes!" Caboose said as he handed it over to her as though he hadn't been hoarding it to himself up until now.

Examining the box, Carolina traced across three moderately thick groves into the box.

"It looks as though something should be inserted into it," she noted. Looking up, her eyes drifted towards the journals the two Reds held. "Considering that those are the only other thing that we have, I wouldn't be surprised if we're to slide them in."

"But there's three slits, and we only have two journals," Tucker pointed out.

"Um," a voice piped up, and Tucker almost asked who the hell was speaking when he turned to the still kneeling Doc- he had forgotten that he was there too, shit. "Grif has a journal too."

Sure enough, the last Red was holding tightly onto a journal, pressed against his chest that they hadn't noticed at first due to the tight huddle he held himself in. Grif didn't look up yet, and Tucker wasn't even sure if the man was lucid at all. They should probably check to see if he was asleep or not, Tucker knows that the man had the ability to sleep in any position- even with his eyes open too.

"But- that doesn't make sense," Simmons blurted out. "It's supposed to be Red versus Blue! And- all of our Blues are currently accounted for, who could have it possibly been?"

Looking towards Temple, the man shook his head and gestured to himself and the unnamed man, "Loco and I are the only other Blues. Buckey... he was with Surge."

Approaching Grif, he knelt down next to him on the opposite side of Doc.

There had to be _some_ reason why the other man looked like this. Currently, they had three of their group missing: Sarge, Lopez, and Donut. And... Tucker didn't have any high hopes for them being alive now. Simmons, Carolina, and Grif were here, which meant that they had been kidnapped on that moon just like him and the others were. 

So the rest of the Reds... they were probably dead.

But could that really affect Grif so deeply like this? Sure, they had all become their own little family over time, but- Grif hadn't acted like this when _Church_ died. And Church was as much part of the group as the rest of them.

Grif had mourned Church, but he hadn't collapsed in on himself like this. Tucker doubted that it had anything to do with the Reds and Blues, so why...?

Doc sent a smile towards Grif, and reached out slowly to shake his shoulder, "Hey, Grif, are you with us, buddy?"

For the first time since Tucker had woken up, Grif’s eyes had actually focused on something else than the empty space in front of him.

"Ah, you're hearing isn't impaired, that's great!" Doc exclaimed. "Any other time, I'd insist on making sure you aren't hurt, but I think we need to ask some important questions."

Doc glanced at Tucker, letting him know that the floor was all his.

"Grif, I need to level with you," Tucker started, inwardly cringing at how he was handling this already. "You look really, really fucked up, and while I'd normally help you out with that first, I need to know what your First Trial was."

"First... Trial?" Grif squinted his sunken eyes at him like he couldn't understand what Tucker was asking of him. But Grif wasn't nearly that stupid, so Tucker was willing to bet that he was still coming out of whatever state he had been locked in before.

"Yeah, that stupid game where you got that journal from," Tucker pointed at the offending object.

Grif's fingers tightened around it, and his eyes got more panicked at the memory of it.

"Game... I-" his eyes started to become cloudy again, and Tucker had a feeling that they were losing him. "I- I _killed_ her."

Eyes snapping as wide as they possibly could go, Tucker swore that his heart must have stopped at those words.

Grif- he didn't _kill_ people. That was totally against his style, lazy to a fault, but Tucker had a feeling that there was part of him that was truly pacifistic to _some_ degree. Like he wouldn't hesitate to throw down, but killing people was a line that he had drawn in the sand. Not even people who deserved it, like those pirates on Chorus.

Maim, injured for life by running them over with the Warthog? Yeah. But not willingly kill.

"She's dead- it's all my fault," words started to tumble out of Grif's mouth. "I didn't- I'm such an idiot! _My sister-"_

All the blood drained from his body. Behind him, he heard a few others gasp at his admission.

Red-

 _"Kai's fucking dead and it's all my fault!"_ Grif yelled out in anguish, and Tucker is frightened because he's never heard that level of emotion from Grif- _ever._ Before anyone could stop him, Grif passed out, collapsing to the side and hitting harshly against the purple tiled floor.

_-versus Blue._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confirmed Dead: _Kaikaina Grif_ , _1.2% Buckey_  
>  Suspected Dead: _8.9% Colonel Sarge_ , _6.3% Lopez La Pesado_ , _6.9% Franklin Delano Donut_  
>  Unconfirmed: ????
> 
> So those who know the game might recognize the direction I'm going with Grif- that's right! He's taking Kanna's place in this au! But I won't say much more on that so as to keep those new to the au in a little suspense.
> 
> If you'd like to contact me you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


	4. The Hanger and the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What about Grif?" Simmons spoke up, staring at his fellow Red. "We can't just leave him!"
> 
> "I can stay and watch him," Temple offered with a smile which sent shivers down Tucker's spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, here we go! Another chapter! And might I just say I thoroughly enjoyed all of your reactions to last chapter, so here's a bit of breather. Trust me, folks, you've got a _big_ storm coming. Also, so sorry, I made a bit of an error with the number of doors last chapter, I went back and fixed it!
> 
> Currently upset at my Beta because he finally informed what was up with the dog in FMA:B, and I would very much like to go back to _not_ knowing, thank you very much. All mistakes are my own, I hope you all enjoy!

There's a special kind of cold dread that grips Tucker's heart and it doesn't want to let go, not even after minutes and minutes have passed after hearing about- hearing-

Hearing about Kai's death.

There's still so much he wants to ask- how? When did she get kidnapped? How did their captors even know who she was? She was hardly involved in their adventures, she should have been  _ safe- _ but the only person who could answer them was currently unconscious.

But most importantly, Tucker wanted to know if Grif was being literal about... about having killed Kai.

Because  _ inadvertently _ causing her death is different than being the one to do it directly. He hopes it's a case of survivor's guilt- like if Simmons hadn't been able to solve the First Trial for him, and he was struck with guilt over that.

And not anything else.

"How's he doing?" he walks back over to Doc, who had stayed by Grif's side ever since his passing out.

"Well, it's hard to say," Doc said, sucking in a harsh breath. "If I had my scanner I could say for sure whether he has some sort of physical problem- or even some of my essential oils! Those could be really handy right about now."

"So, what you're saying is that you have no clue if he's going to be ok?" Tucker deadpanned.

"Yes, but also no," Doc raised a hand to tussle through his dark curls. "I can make a solid guess that he'll be ok physically, I don't think he has any sort of head trauma, otherwise that'd be  _ really _ bad considering he passed out and all. But mentally? I mean, you saw what happened back there."

"Right," Tucker sighed. At the moment, there really wasn't much they could do for the Red.

Looking back at the rest of the group, with his eyes settling on the box that Carolina still held, he knew what he had to do.

Looming over Grif's body, he reached down to pry the journal loose from his grip. Taking it into his own hands, he skimmed through it quickly just to confirm that it was blank as well.

Doc's eyes trailed after him as he headed back towards the group, and Tucker had a feeling that he was judging him for just taking the journal instead of waiting for Grif to wake up again.

"We have all three journals," Tucker announced. "So, what next?"

"Insert them into the slits," Carolina said. "It probably doesn't matter what order, they're identical."

He, Simmons, and Surge brought the journals to the slits and slid them in- and he couldn't even find it in him to make a joke of some sort- only to hear the distinct sound of a paper shredder.

"Oh, come on, really?" Tucker snapped because what the fuck was the point of having the slits and the journals if it wasn't gonna  _ do _ anyth-

_ Click. _

Having spoken too soon, the box opened up slightly, now unlocked, and Carolina pried it open the rest of the way.

The journals were now shredded into little slits and given by the glint in Caboose's eyes, Tucker knew that he wanted to play with it as if it were confetti, but Carolina digging through the box to find something stopped Caboose in his tracks.

It didn't take long for Carolina to produce a book from the bottom of the box hidden under the shredded journal scraps.

"So, we sacrificed three journals, for one book?" Simmons questioned, bringing his hand up to his chin in thought.

Flipping the hardcover book around, Carolina quirked an eyebrow at the front.

_ "As Seasons Pass," _ she read aloud. "By an author named R. Ten."

"R. Ten?" Simmons parroted. "Ar-ten, ri-ten, written?"

He must have been thinking back to the First Trail, unscrambling on instinct now.

"Is there anything else? That can't be it," Tucker insisted.

Handing the box and it's remaining contents over to Caboose, and as Tucker knew he would, he immediately started to mess around with the slips of paper, that other Blue- Loco, if he's remembering what Temple said correctly- joining him too.

Opening the book, Carolina flipped through the pages, and Tucker could see glimpses of black text.

"It looks as though a completely normal novel," she said. "Oh wait, here we go, there's a written message at the back:  _ Find my library. Complete the collection, for there are four novels missing." _

"Another puzzle?" Wash asked, coming closer to Carolina to peer over her shoulder at the message.

"Looks like it," she sighed, closing the novel loudly. Turning back behind her towards the doors at the back of the room she said, "I think it's time we start searching the other rooms for a way out."

"What about the puzzle," Temple asked with a flat tone of voice.

"I'm not going to sit around and play ridiculous games with whoever is holding us captive right now," Carolina growled. "My first priority is to find a way to get out, and get my hands on the idiots who thought they could mess around with us."

"Right, I have no doubt in your ability to do that," Temple regarded her dryly.

Rolling her eyes at him, she nodded her head towards Wash who followed in step behind her, "We're going to check out the left-back door."

"Wait, is now really the time to be separating," Simmons asked with wide eyes, reaching out towards the Freelancers.

They didn't answer him, but Wash did turn back and give him a shrug as if to say there wasn't much he could do about it. And considering the way that Carolina was absolutely pissed- and she was good at hiding it this time around, but he could tell by the furrow of her brow, and the pinching around her eyes that she was holding back a litany of screams and a flurry of blows- Tucker knew he would be doing his best to get her to calm down slightly.

Tucker wonders if Carolina is furious about Kai's death or the way that Grif was crippled from it. She never knew Kai, never got the chance too- they all thought she was dead, except Grif, and now she really  _ is _ dead and he's not handling it well, he doesn't know what makes now so different, maybe because he never got to say goodbye- but Carolina cared about Grif, in her own Freelancer-y way.

And Grif was hurting deeply right now, and whoever fucked with Carolina's family was as good as dead. 

"Of course, what else could you expect from Freelancers," Temple muttered under his breath. He turned towards the two SIMS that he knew and said, "Surge, watch out for Loco, would you? If we're going to be splitting up, I want to know that someone can reign him in."

Grumbling, Surge didn't question his authority, which Tucker found strange, because if this was Sarge- he squashes down the thought that Sarge was probably dead now too, they had no way to confirm, but he just knew it was true- he would have  _ never _ taken an order from a Blue. Not even when they were all on the same team, he'd bitch and make a fuss about it, until he made his own loophole to convince himself that it was his own idea and  _ then _ do it.

These guys were like off-brand versions of their own team, now that Tucker thought about it, he could see the various similarities.

"What about Grif?" Simmons spoke up, staring at his fellow Red. "We can't just leave him!"

"I can stay and watch him," Temple offered with a smile which sent shivers down Tucker's spine.

"Yeah, I'm not sure we're too comfortable with some rando- no offense- watching over our very  _ vulnerable at the moment _ friend," Tucker crossed his arms, mainly to calm the goosebumps that he knew littered his arms.

"I can watch him?" looking around, his eyes went back to Doc.

Sharing an unsure look with Simmons, he just knew they were on the same wavelength about the matter.

Doc's grin faltered slightly, and it slowly turned into a small frown as he said, "Don't... don't you guys trust me?"

"It's not so much a matter of trust, Doc," Simmons fumbled, trying to figure out a way to say what both he and Tucker were thinking.

"It's just that if we leave you alone with him you're more likely to kill him with your mal-practice than keep him safe," Tucker decided to go with the old, rip the band-aid off of the wound fast and quick method.

"Oh, right, no, yeah that's totally a good point," Doc swallows harshly, looking away and- fuck, there are slight tears in his eyes. Doc rests his hand against the tiled ground, and his fingers curl into a fist for just a moment before relaxing.

"At a bit of an impasse now, aren't we," Temple remarked. "How about, I can watch Grif and Doc can watch me? I mean, it's like you said, it's not a matter that you don't trust him, just that you need someone more capable to make sure he's fine."

"I... I don't know about this," Simmons sounded unsure, and Tucker knew that  _ he _ wanted to be the one to stay behind and watch over Grif, and Tucker thought he would have been the first one to offer to do it.

So why hadn't he?

"Come on, Simmons, we can't keep standing here," Tucker gave him a slight nudge.

"No, Tucker's right," Simmons nodded. "Ok, that sounds...  _ fine, _ Temple. Just- make sure nothing bad happens to Grif? Please?"

"I wouldn't even dream of it," Temple said, his mood somehow having brightened.

Ok, yeah, it was official. Temple was some sort of closet creep and Tucker felt unsure about this now.

"Hey Doc," he called out to the medic who was forlornly looking at Grif.

"Yeah?" he perked up, looking at Tucker behind his round frames.

"Keep an eye on Grif, I'm sure he'd appreciate a friend looking out for him right now," spilled from his lips.

All traces of tears dissipated from Doc's eyes, instead replaced with steeled determination.

"You can count on me," Doc promised.

Turning towards Simmons, and glancing at Caboose, he gestured towards the singular door on the left wall, Surge and Loco having disappeared towards the remaining back door not too long ago.

"Might as well start searching," he said. "Carolina might not want to do the puzzle, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"What do you think we should expect," Simmons asked nervously. "If it's another death trap, I don't know how much we can rely on luck again."

"Puh-lease," Tucker waved him off. "There's more of us now, plus, if there were death traps we'd have heard screams from the others."

"Maybe they have sore throats from all the freaking out," Caboose contributed. "Or the walls are scream proof- I can check if you want-"

"Do not," both he and Simmons reprimanded, whirling around towards the taller Blue.

Caboose raised his hands in response and pouted, "Just a thought. If you need me to scream you know where to find me."

"That's not gonna happen anytime soon," Tucker remarked.

Entering the room, it looked as though it was some sort of closed vehicle hanger. 

Excited at the prospect that they had escape vehicles at the ready, he hurried over to a Mongoose, sliding onto the seat and pressing on the gas pedal.

Nothing.

Figures, there was no way it'd be that easy.

Slipping off, he inspected the engine, finding it in complete disarray.

"This one's a bust," he announced, looking over at Simmons and Caboose.

"The alien unicycle isn't turning on," Caboose announced, turning away from a Banshee. "And Sheila isn't responding, so I think she's asleep too."

"What about you, Simmons?" Tucker asked, moving closer to the Red.

"I can't pop open the hood no matter what I do," Simmons huffed, before looking down at his only hand. "Of course, that could just be because I'm down a limb at the moment."

"Step aside and watch the jock do his magic," Tucker shooed him aside.

Trying to slip his fingers under the hood to pry it open, it just wouldn't budge. Which was strange, considering it seemed like all the other vehicles could be opened up.

"That's not the only thing that's strange," Simmons said, pointing down towards where the tow hooks of the Warthog were supposed to be. "The two hooks are just- gone! Why though? There doesn't seem to be anything else in this room. Why have a puzzle that can't be solved!"

"You think this is the next puzzle?" Tucker asked.

"It has to be," Simmons said with conviction. "It's such a small detail to overlook, but it just doesn't feel right without it."

"Ah, yes, but Simmons! We still haven't checked out the back door," Caboose said, gesturing towards the doorway at the back of the hanger.

"More rooms?" he questioned, trying to visualize in his mind how big this place could possibly be.

"Maybe there's more clues or puzzle pieces there," Simmons said, following behind Caboose.

Approaching the doorway, they noticed a deep violet lamp as the only light source to illuminate the door.

"What is this places obsession with the color purple," Tucker scowled. "Like, Red and Blue I can understand. But purple? It's neither!"

"No, but it's a compromise," Simmons realized. "Red and Blue make purple."

"So, what, Doc is the key to this whole thing?" and the question wasn't said with any maliciousness towards the medic, but he was grasping at straws on what the goal of any of this could be.

"Maybe, maybe not," the Red said. "We won't be able to know for sure until we investigate more."

"Then let's open the door!" chirped Caboose, who grabbed at the handle and opened it with reckless abandon.

"Caboose!" Tucker's heart lept into his chest, and he rushed after his fellow Blue, scolding, "You have to be more careful, there could be traps- woah..."

Having entered the room, he saw that it was a very tall room, vertically stretching for miles up. There were even wacky stretch paintings like that one horror attraction and Tucker found himself straining his neck to look at them. One of them was tilted to the side slightly, and Tucker could only faintly see some sort of grate behind it. But most impressive were the bookshelves filled to the brim with novels of all sorts of shapes and sizes and colors. 

"This must be the library mentioned in the note," Simmons exclaimed. 

Looking around widely, Simmons noticed something towards the middle of the Library and hurried over to it.

It was a smooth, circular oak table with a smaller raised platform in the middle of it.

"Weird," Tucker said as he looked at it.

"It kinda looks like those tables at bookstores where the nice book people prop up books, and people not named Caboose accidentally knock them down," Caboose supplied.

"You might be onto something, Caboose," Simmons said looking up at the Blue. "Maybe this is where we're supposed to put the missing novels? I'm willing to be that the middle platform is for the first one we found."

"Too bad Carolina has that one right now," Tucker frowned. "Ok, cool. So we found the Library, now all we need to find are the missing novels."

"At least we have two more rooms to check," Simmons gave a tentative smile.

Giving Simmons a small smile back, Tucker found himself saying, "Yeah, and before you know it we'll have this puzzle solved  _ without _ any more bullshit."

"Uh, Tucker?" Caboose spoke up, having wandered to look at the expanse of shelves.

Of course, just as he's said something positive the world sought to prove him wrong, "What's up, Caboose?"

"Ah, I just think you should know that I found these," turning towards them, Caboose stretched out his hands and produced a large number of needler rounds.

_ "I- I killed her-" _ echoes in his head.

"Oh," was all that passed from his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so we're starting to see the clues to the first Doll... hope you guys enjoyed that bit! And for those who've played the game, how are you liking my take on the First Level puzzles so far? I tried to make it orientated to the Reds and Blues!
> 
> For once I didn't incorporate something that the manga did differently than the game- I hated that they were given a time limit in the manga because as someone who took like two hours on this level alone (note: I am very bad at games) I would for sure die if I was kidnapped and had to do the puzzles.
> 
> If you would like to contact me, you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


	5. The Bar and The Taxidermy Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next room had brought him instant relief, but that was only because it was something he wasn't expecting to see in this hell house.
> 
> _There was a fucking bar._ With loads and loads of alcohol just waiting to get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter to those who celebrate! I know everything sucks at the moment, but I hope you're all able to find some joy today whether you celebrate or not!
> 
> No Beta, which makes all mistakes my own! I hope you all enjoy!

"Caboose, can you just- just hand those over to me," Tucker said with his hand outstretched. 

The other blue didn't hesitate to hand the rounds over, and Tucker pocketed them as best he could. He didn't even want to begin to think about what their purpose could be. Truthfully, he wanted to throw them out, but they were there for a reason unbeknownst to him.

"Let's-" the weight of the rounds put a damper on the semi-optimistic mood he had been going for just a second ago. "Let's just get out of here."

The three of them made their way out of the Library without making a sound- and you just knew shit was fucked when not even Caboose was making a peep- heading out of the Hanger and back into the original room that they had sequestered in.

It looked as though Temple and Doc were in a heated- but quiet- conversation, the medic nervously wringing his hands together and the Blue doing his best to loom over the other man despite Doc being taller than him.

Behind them, Grif had been moved into a more comfortable position. Still passed out.

Walking over to them before moving on to the next door, Tucker greeted them by saying, "Hey, any updates on Grif's condition?"

Breaking away from each other, Doc's eyes flick over to Temple as he licks his lips and answers, "Nothing yet, but, he's starting to stir a tad. My guess is that he'll wake up soon-ish."

"Right," Tucker nodded, glancing back at Simmons who had knelt down at Grif's side to grasp at his hand. Looking back up at Temple, he can see the near-perfectly hidden sneer at the sight. "What were the two of you talking about before we came over?"

It looked like for a moment that Doc wanted to open his mouth and say something, but a scathing look from Temple cut off whatever words might have left his lips.

Laughing flippantly, Temple waved him off by saying, "Oh, just catching up! I actually met Doc before he joined your little rag-tag group. Kinda makes us Blues and Reds the originals if you think about it."

"Blues and Reds?" Tucker quirked an eyebrow.

"Just what I and my group called ourselves," for a second Temple's fake smile actually faltered. "Though, I suppose, Blues and Red is more appropriate now."

A shiver ran down Tucker's spine like lightening at the thought that if something were to happen to Grif or Simmons or both of them they'd be reduced to just Blues too.

The others were dead. No one had said it yet. Tucker knew that they were dead though.

"Well, don't let us stop you for figuring out the puzzle," Temple said, directing Tucker out of his somber thoughts.

"Come on, Simmons," he addressed Simmons, who looked reluctant to let go of Grif's hand. "We still have two more rooms to check out."

"Of course," he rose from his position on the ground, moving to Tucker's side.

Walking out of the room with Caboose in tow, it didn't occur to Tucker that Doc hadn't spoken at all.

The next room was a hallway with a dead end with a door to the right and movie posters lining the walls.

Browsing to look at them all, Tucker pauses in front of one for  _ Reservoir Dogs. _ Except, it wasn't the theatrical poster at all.

It was a poster made from the guys' attempt to recreate the movie for him.

His fists clenched tightly at the poster, thinking back to what Caboose had commented on before all this shit and swiftly consumed their waking existence.

How. How had they gotten their hands on this?

Their captors knew  _ far _ too much about them, it made Tucker uncomfortable to be trapped in such a power imbalance- stuck wondering if he would get just a sliver of information about the people actively killing them when it seemed they knew everything about them.

"Hey, Tucker, does this poster seem weird to you?" Simmons called over to him.

Staring at the poster with a rising sense of hatred filling his core, Tucker shook his head and walked over to the Red.

Looking at the poster, nothing immediately called out to him on what could make it weird.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not wanting to waste time scratching his head to solve a puzzle he wouldn't understand.

"I don't know, it just..." Simmons trailed off before rubbing his arm with his only available hand. "It feels like there's something  _ missing." _

Turning back to the poster, he gave it another run down. The center of focus was a grim-faced bald man staring directly at the viewer, not looking to be wearing anything but it didn't immediately register that he was naked or anything like that. In fact, it almost looked as if the man was burnt.

"It is odd," he admitted, glancing at the other posters. "I recognize most of these other movies, but this doesn't even look like it's a movie poster at all. More like propaganda.  _ We're watching you _ and all that shit."

"Yeah," Simmons agreed. "It almost looks as though he should be on fire. Right?"

"Definitely," Tucker said. 

There didn't seem as though there was anything left to explore in the hall, but he realized that Caboose wasn't there.

"Dammit, where's Caboose," he cursed.

"Don't freak out so quickly," Simmons said, staying reasonable where Tucker had jumped to the worst-case scenario. "He probably went into the next room."

"That doesn't make me any less freaked out," Tucker said, heading to the door. "He's  _ got _ to stop running off. One day he's gonna run off and get trapped into something, this place isn't safe."

The next room had brought him instant relief, but that was only because it was something he wasn't expecting to see in this hell house.

_ There was a fucking bar. _ With loads and loads of alcohol just waiting to get drunk.

He could feel his fingers itch to wrap themselves around the neck of a bottle, but if he spent all his time here drinking then he'd be totally fucked for the rest of the day. Or week. However long they were trapped in this place because one bottle would become ten- because holy fuck, nothing had ever been as stressful as this whole situation.

Maybe after everything was solved, he'd have a celebratory drink. Preferably not here.

Also, the alcohol might be poisoned- ignoring the voice in his head that sounded like Wash reminding him that alcohol  _ itself _ was a poison- that was only occurring to him now.

Temptation aside, his missing teammate was seated on a barstool talking animatedly with that other Blue of the same flock- Loco.

Surge was there too, but unlike Tucker, he hadn't resisted drowning his awareness in whiskey.

Walking closer to the bar he looked up to see two separate signs.

One declaring,  _ Reds: Carolina. Cronut. Donut. Gene. Grif. Lopez. Lorenzo. Sarge. Simmons. Surge. _

The other,  _ Blues: Buckey. Caboose. Loco. Temple. Tucker. Wash. _

"Oh that's bullshit, they can't just declare Carolina a Red," he instantly complained after his eyes had read her name at the top of the board. "If anything she should be a Blue, like- look at the Red list, there's more Reds than Blues that's not fair!"

Well, there  _ were _ more Reds than Blues.

That sits uncomfortably in his chest, why does his brain always remind him of that.

"Doc's not even up there," he scowled. A lot of things pointed at Doc being involved with this whole thing, and while he didn't want to be the first person to start pointing fingers at people in their own group, he was starting to suspect that there had to be  _ something _ involving the medic.

"Doc doesn't drink though," Simmons said, approaching Tucker. "I think that board is for dividing up the alcohol, the cabinets are color-locked."

Sure enough, following where Simmons had helpfully pointed, Tucker saw the unnaturally bright locks on the cabinets.

"So you guys get more alcohol than us?" and he was back to grumbling. Better than thinking about other, unpleasant, things.

"I won't be touching that stuff," Simmons mumbled, leaving his side to be near Surge instead. 

Blearily looking up at them, Surge scoffed and rested his head against the countertop with a grumble.

"What do ye want," he barked.

"Did you find anything useful here?" Simmons asked, keeping goal-orientated.

"Bah, nothin' but the devil's blood," Surge said with a gesture of his bottle, causing the liquid to swish around in the container.

"Do you even try looking?" Tucker was doubtful that the Red had even given the rest of the room a second glance before diving straight into the liquor. Which, in his mind, was a bit unfair considering that was his reaction at first too.

"The blue fella ov'r there might've found something," Surge pointed with the neck of the bottle towards Loco who smiled and waved at him.

"I found a lot of shiny things!" Loco declared. "Like this dime!"

"Pennies are better," Caboose interjected, with a look of consideration. "Dimes are nice too. Not nickles though, I don't trust them."

"So true," Loco nodded. "I also found this lighter in a drawer! It's got a teeny bit of juice in it left."

To emphasize this, he shook the lighter violently in his hand.

"Wait, let me see that," Tucker held out his hand, and the other Blue helpfully placed it in it.

Turning over the lighter, and seeing the faded and scratched up state of it, he felt a twinge of familiarity.

"I think I've seen this somewhere before," Tucker revealed. It was at the yellow symbol and the words Errera that sparked his memory. "Wait- shit! It is! This is Carolina's lighter!"

"Really?" Simmons asked with surprise blossoming on his face. "I didn't even know she had one, I didn't peg her for a smoker."

"Well, she doesn't, but I've definitely seen her holding this," mulling it over and running his thumb over the symbol he starts to feel uncomfortable. "I don't like that they had this. Carolina wouldn't even let me get a good  _ look _ at this, never mind even touching the damn thing. This feels invasive."

"Tucker, do you think that this is another puzzle piece?" Simmons asked. "That movie poster, I just can't get it out of my mind."

It was risky, Loco was right, the lighter was almost out of fuel. It probably had enough for one more flame, and that was it. So if they were going to use it, they needed to be absolutely sure that they had it right.

But... Simmons was right, Tucker couldn't get that poster out of his mind either. It just  _ had _ to be a puzzle.

"Only one way to find out," he said with a resolve that he wanted to grasp and never let go.

"Wait, don't you want to hear about the lapt- oh, they left," Loco called out to their retreating forms. Turning he saw that Caboose was also leaving to follow after them. "Oh."

Back in the Poster Hall once more, the three of them were in front of the menacing poster once more.

Taking in a deep breath, and hoping that they were right about something for once, Tucker opened the lighter and summoned a flame.

Bringing it close to the poster, it quickly caught aflame, and the previously barren figure was surrounded by flames, the curling of the paper making it seem as though the figure was smirking.

But Tucker wasn't paying attention to any of that as he assaulted with vague memories- visions- sounds- feelings of a figure he had never met personally but knew existed in Epsilon for those brief moments when the two were connected mentally.

This figure- he- he knew him, if only by virtue of _Church._

And he knows that there was reason to fear  _ him. _

The poster crumbles into pieces, and behind it is a hidden alcove, small enough to fit a single novel.

Reaching out with only a slightly shaking hand, he pulled out the novel.

One down, four more to go.

_ "Ember and Stars," _ Simmons read aloud from over his shoulder. "By R. Ten, again."

Lowering the lighter, Tucker tries to shake off imprints that had been left in his mind somehow.

"Let's just move on to the next room," he muttered.

Handing the book over to Caboose, Simmons followed after Tucker, who stormed past the three still in the main room.

Their positions had changed again, this time Doc was cradling Grif's head in his lap, glaring slightly at a nonchalant Temple, who didn't even seem to care that the medic was even looking at him.

This time they didn't stop for small talk, but Tucker did turn to see Simmons give Grif a longing look over his shoulders.

The final door led to a waiting room of sorts, nothing openly calling his attention, so he moved onto the bonus door.

Tucker was stopped in his tracks as soon as he entered the room, however, his already unnerved mind amping up higher at the sight this new horror brought him.

Hundreds of mounted  _ animal heads _ lined the halls of this room. They spanned from tigers to cows to elephants to every which animal that existed under the sun. There were even butterflies stapled and pinned up with other bugs in little cases hung up on the walls.

"Nope," Tucker said, attempting to turn around and leave the room, but being stopped by Caboose's broad chest.

"This... is freaky," Simmons noted meekly.

"I like it!" Caboose declared, moving further into the room to admire a bear head.

"Oh, God, please don't tell me a novel is shoved into one of the mouths of these things that'd be so gross," Tucker wanted to vomit at the  _ thought _ of sticking his hand into the mouth of an animal head.

"No, I don't think that's it," Simmons said, a thoughtful look on his face.

He separated from Tucker, leaving the Blue to his own devices, which was mainly standing at a respectable distance away from the various heads, looking at the animals and not even recognizing some of them.

"What the hell is even this," he pointed out, looking at the frightening gape of an animal he didn't even want to think about.

Glancing over at him, Simmons helpfully supplied, "That's a walrus- it's- if you asked Sarge, he wouldn't admit that it's a real animal, all because Grif-"

Simmons paused, startled by his own story, turning around the room eyes bouncing from one head to the next.

"That's it!" he exclaimed, racing over to a pig-like creature. His hand reached out and  _ yanked _ off one of the creature's tusks.

"What are you doing?!" Tucker yelped at the sickening crunch of the tusk coming off.

"The Warthog!" Simmons exclaimed, pocketing the tusk and reaching for the second. "The tow hooks were missing remember? When we first got it, Sarge said that the tow hooks resembled a warthog's tusks! This must be what will open the hood and solve the puzzle!"

"That's..." brilliant? Weird? Tucker wasn't sure what to say. "That's creepy, that they know about that."

"Sure," Simmons faltered in his excitement. "It's concerning, to say the least, but, at least we're closer to getting this whole thing done and over with."

Simmons walked over to him, producing the tusk in his hand as if Tucker wanted to look at the thing.

But this conversation, talking about a conversation between Grif and Sarge...

"Simmons," he spoke up, surprising himself. "Why didn't you volunteer to stay with Grif?"

Simmons looked spooked, and his fingers closed around the tusk.

"I- I- well," he stammered. "I wouldn't really have been helping yo- him! By staying by his side. The more hands-on-deck- that we can trust!- the better, y-you know?"

Simmons wasn't telling him the full truth, his eyes kept darting to the side, and he was usually not this nervous around Tucker.

He shouldn't press, now wasn't the time nor place to confront him about whatever nerd problems had consumed him.

Instead, his eyes flicked up and past Simmons towards Caboose was inching towards a door at the very end of the hall, and he called out, "Don't even fucking do it, Caboose!"

Caboose paused, then dramatically turned his head towards Tucker, hand still outstretched comically.

"If you keep running off, I'm gonna swap you out with fucking  _ Doc," _ Tucker reprimanded.

Caboose gasped, offended, and moved away from the door as if Tucker was going to follow up with his threat right that very second.

"Thank you," he groaned. "Seriously Caboose, please just do this one thing for me."

Caboose at least had the common sense to look ashamed, a hand snaking up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Sorry, Tucker," he apologized sincerely. 

Softening up, Tucker patted him on the shoulder and said, "I know you are bud. Sorry for yelling, you probably just wanna explore like us."

Nodding his head, Caboose looked back at the door.

"Can I open it?" he asked, and already feeling back for making Caboose feel as though he had to  _ apologize _ Tucker couldn't deny his request.

"Go for it," he allowed.

Caboose opened the door, sweeping into the room with a flourish of someone who was excited and curious.

Following after him, Tucker and Simmons entered the strangely circular room.

There were reclining seats that resembled the ones that might have been in a movie theater, a purple plush Tucker noted as well, around the perimeter of the room. Above the seats, however, were a collection of helmets, a lot that Tucker recognized- like the Meta's- and some that he didn't.

Felix's helmet was propped up. 

Tucker had to resist the urge to spit on the visor. Just barely.

On the walls, there was a very large screen that had a semi-faceless figure smiling down at them, without a nose or eyes, with a large tuft of hair covering their right eye. The figure was wearing a uniform similar to VIC's, except the name tag read ELI.

And inspecting the room were Carolina and Wash.

"Wash!" he called out to the Freelancer, who turned towards him and walked over.

"Tucker, good to see that you're still ok," Wash sighed in relief.

"Why? Has something happened to you guys?" he asked concerned.

"No, nothing thankfully," Wash admitted. "Doesn't stop me from worrying."

"Aw, you're such a big sap," Tucker scrounged up enough humor in him to tease the other man. "Caring about me like that."

"Please, I care everyone else too," Wash rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Then, his voice dipped into a lower octave as he asked, "Find anything yet?"

"Yeah," Tucker matched his volume. "We managed to locate the library  _ and _ one of the missing novels. Plus, Simmons thinks that he's figured out the next puzzle, so make that two novels soon enough, plus the one we originally had that makes three."

Wash looked impressed, well surprised mainly, but under that Tucker could tell he was impressed.

"That's great," Wash said. "So, you think that there might be a novel here somewhere? I haven't had any luck finding one. Checked under the seats and everything."

"I'm sure Simmons will figure something out," there was tad trace of jealousy that was only now surging into him. Simmons seemed to have everything about this all figured out, and while Tucker appreciated his input and figuring things out and all, it just made him antsy and restless to know he had been pretty useless so far.

"Hey," Wash snapped him out his thoughts with a concerned look on his face. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, just," he blew out some air. "Feeling a bit idiotic and useless."

"Well, I can't say much about the first," and Tucker couldn't stop the fact that that made him smile just briefly, it was always a victory when Wash joked around with them, "but I know for a fact that you're not useless."

"How do you figure that?" he asked, knowing that he was totally fishing for compliments, but desiring reassurance more than anything else right now.

"Because we're all doing our best now, and that's enough," Wash said. "And hey, if we're gonna make this a contest, I currently haven't found anything so you're already doing better than me."

"You're right, Wash," Tucker grinned, biting his tongue for just a moment. "I  _ am _ better than you."

Groaning, Wash shook his head, "You're insufferable, Tucker."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway," he teased, sticking out his tongue.

"Sure, believe what you will," Wash clapped him on the shoulder. "Work your magic, Captain. Let's go find another novel."

Walking away from each, Tucker wandered around the room and glanced at all the different helmets trying to piece together where and who they belonged to.

He paused in front of a blue helmet reminiscent of Church's, if not for the fact that it had a blue visor.

Tucker has never seen a blue visor before in his life he's pretty sure.

"Tucker," a voice said behind him, and he whirled around to the sight of Carolina holding an empty Needler. 

"Jesus Christ on a fuckstick, Carolina, you scared me," he said as his eyes darted down at the empty weapon, the rounds practically burning at his side.

"Sorry," she deadpanned, and he knew that she wasn't sorry at  _ all. _ "Here, I want you to hold onto this."

"Thanks," he said warily, taking the weapon from her. "Uh, can I ask why though?"

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes shuttered close for a second before answering, "I don't like Covenant weaponry."

"Yeah, that makes sense," although he had absolutely no idea  _ why _ she personally didn't like it, he had a feeling it might have been old feelings from the war or something similar.

Then, after having been handed over the gun, he remembered that he had something to give back to her.

"Carolina, I actually have something for you too," Tucker said, shoving the empty gun between his side and arm as he reached into his pockets to produce the dead lighter. "I'm sorry, we had to use it for the last puzzle, I know how this means to you..."

Her eyes widened, and her fingers shook as they curled around the lighter.

"Thank you," she muttered. "I- I really should just throw this old thing out."

"Why?" he asked curiously. "It means a lot to you, doesn't it? You don't need to throw away reminders of the past just to move on."

Looking up at him, Tucker took a moment to try and think about what she could possibly be feeling at this moment.

"She would have liked you, I think," he said, the words flowing from his mouth in such a sad fashion.

"Who?" she asked, needing the confirmation.

"Sister- Kaikaiana," Tucker said, her name passing his lips breathlessly. "I mean, she would have flirted with you a  _ shit _ ton, but... you were definitely the type of person she'd love to have met."

"You think so?" Carolina chuckles.

"Well, she thought  _ Tex _ was hot shit," he shrugged. "And your company was better than hers by a long shot."

Carolina was quiet for a moment, hopefully moved by his words, but when she spoke, Tucker felt as though the blood had drained from his body, "Tex was my mother actually."

_ "Oh, my God I had no idea," _ he almost felt the need to cross his legs.

The fact that  _ this _ was how he was finding out about that bombshell is so far removed from his thoughts at the moment. This was fucked on so many levels- wait did that make the original Church her  _ dad- _ but she was practically the same age as them-

Carolina laughed, softly, but it was so nice to hear, "I think that's the first time I've ever said it out loud. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. You can uncross your legs, your dick is safe... for now."

Walking away, ignoring how she had just given him  _ emotional whiplash and mental torment _ Tucker whispered, "For now?" horrified beyond all belief.

But she had laughed. She wasn't as angry as she had been when she had stormed off not too long ago, so that was a good thing.

Tucker and the rest had spent about five more minutes exploring the room after that brief moment, and they hadn't found anything much to  _ Simmons' _ increasing frustrations.

"I guess this room's just not important right now," he said trying to ease the Red. "Like the Hanger- maybe we'll find something and come back?"

"Right, no, you're probably right," Simmons forced himself to calm down. "Let's just get out of here, fix the Warthog, and take it one step at a time."

Taking the lead, Tucker started to walk towards the door to the room when bars slammed down trapping them in the room.

"What the hell!?" he yelled.

Wash went up to the bars and tried pulling on them to no avail, "They're not budging."

"So we're trapped," Carolina growled.

"Hey, no need to be so hostile," a voice said, causing everyone to raise their guard, settling into a fighting stance. "It's not like you're trapped in a room with all of the remains of your past enemies, oh wait."

Looking around for the voice, they couldn't see any new figure in the room, but Caboose's gasp of, "Look!" brought their attention to the suddenly animated and  _ talking _ figure on the screen.

"That's more like it," the figure smirked at their shock. "I'm the master of this room! You may call me ELI- the  _ Evil Leaderboard Intelligence." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your Turn to Die has such a nice balance of humor with horror, so I'm not gonna pass up on a chance to do the same! And this isn't the first Doll, but the next chapter is going to be _very_ exciting!
> 
> If you'd like to contact me you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


	6. The Hall of Villains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one else spoke up, and Carolina turned her head away.
> 
> "Then that settles it," Wash nodded. "We'll have a friendly discussion about who should be the Challenger and then hold a vote, majority rules dictate who wins. Sounds fair?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this took so long! I had to write an Art History Research Paper and then a Western Screenplay for my Cinema class, and ugh, I'm just glad I found time to write something fun! I might be a bit busy these next two weeks or so (finals, ya know?) but after that, I'm all done so I'll be free to write however much!
> 
> Here's just another reminder that all of the dolls and puzzle masters are going to be based on other people in the fandom, all with permission, and at the end of the chapter's that they're introduced I'll provide links back to their blogs.
> 
> Bro man, I don't even know if my Beta is real anymore, all mistakes are my own. I hope you all enjoy!

It was like he had strings and was being controlled like a puppet because Tucker doesn't even think about taking the rounds and inserting them into the Needler, but the next thing he knows he's fired a single shard into to the screen of the AI.

The bottom of the screen cracks in a flash spreading up to the AI's face, pieces of glasses slipping down, fine like sand, onto the tiles.

The smug smirk on the AI doesn't fade away, but it does tsk at him, going, "Now that wasn't very nice. And you're lucky there was an extra round anyway, otherwise you'd  _ never _ pass the next puzzle."

"Tucker," Wash hissed, grabbing his arm and forcing it down on the off-chance that Tucker would fire again. 

Ripping his arm away, but keeping the Needler down, Tucker hisses, "So you're one of the fuckos who's captured us?"

"Not quite," the AI said. ELI tipped their hand in a salute. "It's as I said, I'm the master of this room, but if you want a little less flare, then I'm in charge of this puzzle."

"None of the other puzzles had a master to them," Simmons pointed out with a glare.

"None of the other puzzles will be able to compare to this one," ELI explained. "Now, unless you want to waste more ammo, shall I move on with explaining?"

With a pointed look at Tucker from everybody else, he rolled his eyes and said, "Sure, go ahead and explain how we have to torture each other."

"Oh, trust me, the torture will be later, but not quite in this puzzle," ELI laughed mockingly. "Now onto the rules!"

"There are five of you fleshy humans right now, and plenty of seats, so take your pick, it doesn't really matter which you chose since we'll switch things up! One of you has to stay seated of course, as the Challenger of this puzzle, the rest will be targets."

"Targets?" Simmons squeaked, eyes firmly on the Needler Tucker held tightly in his hand.

"Of course! I didn't just give you the weapon to  _ shoot at me," _ ELI said before frowning. "Although you ended up doing that anyway. A pity, that extra round was meant to be a little reward for being such good puzzle-champs, but oh well."

"You can't truly expect us to sit there and get shot," Carolina stated, a curl to her lip as she grit her teeth.

"Of course not! But, ah, before I explain any further, I would like you all to choose one of you to be a Challenger," the AI said.

"And will the Challenger be safe from whatever the rest of the puzzle entails?" Wash asked.

"Correct! Take your time choosing, call out to me when you've made your decision," ELI stated before going quiet and still like before.

Glancing at each other, Tucker took in a deep breath and was about to speak when-

"I think I should be the Challenger," Simmons said, taking a step forward.

"What?" Tucker looked at him wide-eyed.

"It's not unreasonable," Simmons wilted under his gaze. "We're all trained marksmen, I just think that I should do it."

"I don't mean any offense when I say this, but I think  _ I _ should be the Challenger," Tucker stated.

"Well, we should vote on this," Wash placated. "Does anyone else think that they should be the Challenger?"

No one else spoke up, and Carolina turned her head away.

"Then that settles it," Wash nodded. "We'll have a  _ friendly _ discussion about who should be the Challenger and then hold a vote, majority rules dictate who wins. Sounds fair?"

Simmons nodded his head, and Tucker confirmed verbally, "Ready when you are."

"Right, Simmons, why do you think you should be the Challenger?" Wash asked.

"This isn't about trust, we all trust each other here, so there's no need to worry about who's the most trustworthy behind a gun, but this should be about experience and I've used Covenant weaponry before," Simmons argued.

"True, I'm not so experienced with it myself, otherwise I'd offer to be Challenger," Wash added. "What about you Caboose?"

Caboose wrung his feelings together and said, "I- ah- I don't think I feel too comfortable with any of you pointing a gun at me. Too many accidents..."

"Carolina?" Wash prompted.

Turning back towards the group, Carolina's eyes flickered towards Tucker.

"It doesn't matter to me whichever one of you does it," she said. "I'm undecided."

Tucker didn't really have anything to contribute to why  _ he _ over Simmons should be the candidate, truthfully, he agrees that it would make more sense for Simmons to do it since Tucker was more used to short-range fighting. But...

He just couldn't shake the feeling that  _ he _ had to do this.

"I'll be honest," Wash spoke up. "I mean nothing by this Simmons, but I trust Tucker's ability to shoot more than you right now."

Simmons looked shocked, but also hurt, and didn't comment further.

No one else was speaking up, and it felt like they were at a standstill, and Tucker had to wrack his brain to think about how he could keep the discussion going.

Maybe... maybe he could pit each other's statements against someone else's? At the very least it could get people to elaborate more.

"Caboose," he called out. "What do you mean by 'too many accidents'?" 

Caboose blinked as though he wasn't expecting anyone to call him out on that statement, "Ah, well, we aren't the most careful group, and sometimes we shoot at each other... a  _ lot. _ Especially on Red Team."

"So Simmons, if it's about experience, shouldn't we include all the times that Red Team has shot at each other and at Blue Team too," Tucker pointed out. "And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are more Blues in here than Reds at the moment."

"Are you saying that you don't trust me?" Simmons asked incredulously.

"Not at all, it's like Caboose said, accidents happen and right now..." Tucker trailed off, looking pointedly at Simmons’ missing arm. "I'm too sure you should be behind a gun right now, in case any other accidents happen."

"Well, what about you?!" Simmons exclaimed. "You already wasted one of the rounds! Carelessness like that should be taken into consideration!"

"Wash, what're your thoughts," Tucker asked.

Wash took a moment to think, and after a moment, "I don't think this challenge is about experience or whether which one of us is more equipped to handle one at the moment. Plus, ELI stated that there was an extra bullet meant as a reward and I think we should discuss that more."

"What do you mean?" Carolina asked.

"Well, look," Wash gestured at all the recliners. "They even stated that we had to sit down on one of these and look at all these helmets. I'm guessing this is going to be a test on who can recognize who is friend or foe."

"That's a good point," Tucker commentated, taking a new look around at all the helmets. "But... I don't think I recognize all of them."

"Me neither," Simmons added truthfully.

"Well I do," Wash revealed. "And I'm gonna borrow from Grif's mentality now, Blue Team has  _ way _ more drama than Red Team does. I'm willing to bet that Tucker can recognize more helmets here than you Simmons."

"I-" Simmons tried to think of a rebuttal, but stopped, unable to. But he still wasn't going to back down, saying, "Then why don't you do it?!"

"I'm gonna be honest here," and Wash looked slightly pained. "I don't think I'm comfortable pointing my gun at any of you."

"And why not? It's not like you haven't done it before!" Simmons exploded in anger.

Tucker looked in confusion at the two of them, feeling some sort of unknown tension between the two.

"And that's exactly why I don't feel comfortable doing it again," Wash said, eyes flitting downward. "Not even for a puzzle."

"Oh," Simmons looked stupefied.

"So Tucker has my confidence in this one," Wash concluded, looking back up.

Tucker gave him a smile to show his appreciation, but Simmons shook his head back and forth exclaiming, "I'm not backing down- this is our lives on the line! It should be the one who is the most experienced with a Needler!"

Using other people's statements clearly hadn't convinced Simmons, if Tucker was going to come out of this discussion as Challenger, then he would have to convince Simmons  _ himself. _

Turning towards Tucker, Simmons puffed up his chest in opposition, "Well? Tucker, prove to me that making you Challenger over me would be the best decision to make!"

At that moment, it felt like there was a flash of lightning between the two of them, heating up as they stood against each other in a war of words with tension tense and picking up.

Everyone else seemed like they faded away, and it was just Tucker and Simmons at this moment.

"I just can't trust you with a Needler when you've had no experience with it!" Simmons exclaimed. "I wielded one at the Battle of Chorus not too long ago, it should be me as Challenger!"

"That's irrelevant, Wash said that this puzzle wasn't about skill but about recognizing who is who, and Blue Team has had  _ far _ more experience with villains than Red Team!" Tucker rebutted. "And trust me on this one, I won't shoot the wrong person!"

Moving on, Simmons argued, "Then we should leave it to Wash! Or Carolina!"

"You heard Wash- he can't point a gun at one of us again, and Carolina doesn't feel comfortable wielding Covenant weaponry," Tucker pointed out heatedly. "Would you really rather trust two people who aren't confident behind a Needler than me?!"

Simmons flinched at that point but moved on, "And why should you carry the burden of this puzzle?!"

"Because I won't screw this one up," Tucker swallowed harshly. "Wash believes in me, so why can't you?"

"And what about me? Why can't you trust me to do this for you!" Simmons blurted out, tears starting to form at the edges of his eyes. "It's bad enough that you almost died earlier because of me- because I was almost too slow in solving the First Trial, so  _ please _ give me a second chance."

Blown away by that confession, Tucker blinked, jaw dropped.

"Simmons," he spoke softly. "Is that why you think I don't trust you to do this?"

Swallowing harshly, likely keeping tears at bay, "That's all I've been trying to do. Solving these puzzles so you don't have to... you didn't see how  _ close _ you were to being crushed in half Tucker, I pulled you off the bed  _ seconds _ before you died. And it's been weighing on my mind ever since."

"Is that why you didn't stay behind with Grif?" Tucker finally asked, the question having been at the tip of his tongue for so long now. "Because you thought you had to make sure I was safe?"

"Yeah, I figured if you had me at your back, I could pull you to safety again," Simmons responded.

"Simmons, man, you  _ saved _ my life, at least you were actually able to solve the puzzle," Tucker consoled. "If it had been switched, fuck, I wouldn't have been able to figure it out, and this whole time, you've been solving puzzles left and right, and  _ I've _ been feeling useless. I wanted to be the Challenger because this could be the  _ one _ puzzle I can solve and repay you for saving my life."

Chuckling wetly, Simmons said, "We've been a couple of dumbasses huh."

"Yeah, of course we have, don't you know who we are?" Tucker chuckled too, releasing the tension from his shoulders.

Simmons pursed his lips, eyes flitting downward before coming up to meet Tucker's, "Ok, Tucker. I trust you."

"Thank you," Tucker smiled at him. "And just for the record, I trust you too."

Simmons returned his smile before the sounding of someone clearing their throat reminded them that they were  _ in fact _ in a larger group than just the two of them.

"Ready to vote?" Wash asked, glancing around at everyone.

There was a series of agreements before Simmons stepped up and said, "I put my vote of confidence in Tucker."

"Same here," Wash said.

"I trust Tucker to get us out of here," Carolina said, a proud look on her face.

Looking at Caboose he nodded and said, "I agree as well to what everyone else has voted for."

"And I vote for Simmons," Tucker said, looking at the Red. "Because I trust that he'd be able to do it."

"Well that settles it," Wash said. "Majority rules that Tucker is our Challenger."

"Get us out of here safely," Simmons said, handing over the reins to the Blue.

"We're all counting on you," Wash added.

"Well not, me," Caboose said, waving his fingers. "I count on my fingers."

"HEY, RAT-FACE," Tucker yelled up at the AI. "We've decided on the Challenger, so what next?"

_ "Finally," _ ELI said, simulating a yawn. "No offense, but you guys  _ really _ like drama, don't you?"

Scowling, Tucker rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah get on with it."

"Well, as you may have noticed, this room is filled with chairs and helmets, and you yourself are armed with a weapon," the AI began to explain. "The four none-Challenger's will take a seat of their choosing. Then I will so helpfully fill the other seat with dolls, and each of you will have a helmet lowered onto your heads. There's a mix here in this room, of both friends and foes, so it will be up to the Challenger to remember who is who. Don't worry, all humans will be given the helmet of a friend."

"Seems simple enough," Tucker muttered.

"One special thing that makes this puzzle interesting is that each foe will need to be shot  _ twice," _ ELI said, and Tucker saw how their lips curled up into a malicious smile. "We've made some...  _ modifications _ to those Needler rounds. Now, they only need  _ two _ shards to supercharge and explode the victim. So make sure you fire upon your enemies or else-  _ kablammo! _ Your friend explodes into many pieces."

Looking at the helmets, and the chairs, Tucker starts forming an idea to share with the others on how they can make  _ sure _ that no one will get shot, but ELI interrupted him, "Oh, don't try to think you can memorize where everyone sits or what helmets they'll get. The recliners  _ and _ the helmets will be moving- clockwise for the chairs and counterclockwise for the helmets. Think of it as the Challenger is in the middle of a revolver barrel and we're playing a fun game of Russian Roulette."

_ Fuck. _ There goes that idea.

"Need me to repeat any of that?" ELI asked. "Oh, and remember! Discussing with the target's is against the rules, and so is not firing upon any of them."

Tucker shook his head, not needing anything to be repeated, so they smiled brightly and announced, "Now then, everyone choose their seats."

Carolina, Wash, Caboose, and Simmons spread out seating down in the recliners.

"Now, here's where I would say to load your weapon but you already did that earlier," the AI stated with a dry tone. "So now the fun part, are you ready to begin?"

Taking a breath, relaxing his shoulders, and closing his eyes, Tucker steeled his nerves. 

"I'm ready," he opened his eyes, ready to face whatever they would throw at him.

"Excellent," the AI said before the room descended into pure darkness.

There were multiple exclamations, himself included, at the loss of their sight.

Looking around with wide eyes, because what the fuck was this bullshit?! How was he supposed to aim in the darkness?

But before he could voice his complaints, he heard loud thumping come from all around him and he jumped because he had no idea what the sound was.

Then, slowly one by one the helmets light up, and a loud thrumming sound gradually getting louder.

Soon, the helmets started to move- counterclockwise like ELI had said they would move- and he could feel a breeze generated from the motion start to pick up as both the helmets and the recliners, although he couldn't see them, began to move faster and faster.

Then they jerked to a stop, and a scraping motion filled the room instead, one of the helmets coming closer to him before stopping with a jerking motion.

Needler up and ready, Tucker fired without hesitation at the sight of the familiar grey and orange helmet of Felix. The bright Needler shards embedded themselves into the doll- because there was no sound of pain so he hadn't hurt anyone- and the chair jerked backward as the doll exploded and something  _ wet _ splattered onto the ground. He wished he hadn't wasted that bonus round earlier, he just knows who he'd use it on now. Tucker wasn't ashamed to admit that he got a bit of a thrill out of it, but only because it was Felix's helmet, nothing more. 

With no time of reprieve, another chair jerked forward, and he recognized the helmet as Tex's, and he almost didn't fire before he remembered all of the Tex clones that they had fought against when going to assist Carolina. So, taking the chance, he fired two rounds once again and heard no shout. The chair moved back and exploded.

The next chair had a helmet that he just didn't plain recognize, but it was a vibrant blue and pink. Instinct said to fire, that just because he didn't recognize them as an enemy doesn't mean that they were a friend. But he thought about what Wash had said, about recognizing  _ all _ of the helmets. So, with apprehension, he didn't fire upon the helmet. The recliner moved back, and Tucker swore he could hear a sigh of relief.

Readying himself for the next target, he had to turn around to face the approaching chair, and once again he didn't immediately recognize the helmet, but there was something vaguely familiar about it, and all at once it came back to him that the white helmet was that of Wyoming's, and he fired upon it. The doll moved back and exploded, and Tucker started to feel a lot more confident about this puzzle. 

That is, until he turned around for the next chair, and became face to face with Church's helmet. Throat starting to swell up, his Needler stayed pointed at the ground, and he waited until it got further and further away from him. It was like he was watching Church slip through his grip again. Of course, it wasn't really Church, but it still hurt just the same.

When the next target came forward and it was Locus' helmet, Tucker fired quickly two rounds into the doll’s chest.

But it didn't make him feel any better. Not even when the doll exploded.

The next chair to approach had the unforgettable helmet of the Meta, and he didn't feel any particular feelings towards that enemy. Except for the fact that he had worn the Meta's armor during the Battle of Chorus when... when...

His finger curls against the trigger on the Needler with a snarl, and whereas he had started to feel numb, now he was starting to get angry because clearly that smug as hell AI was taking some sort of sick and twisted enjoyment at pairing these helmets together like this.

Sure enough, the next chair to approach held Doyle's helmet, and he didn't fire once again, but now his thoughts were starting to thunder into a storm, like oh sure- why  _ not _ remind him of a death of someone who absolutely didn't deserve  _ to fucking die?! _

This whole place it- it was like it was determined to drive them all  _ insane. _

The chair moved back, and Tucker turned away because he couldn't stand to look at ghosts of the past anymore.

Hoping that the next helmet would be an enemy of theirs so he- so he could unleash his pent up anger and frustrations and reopened grief onto someone, he was greeted with a somewhat tan- or even khaki?- helmet. Thinking that it was probably orange like Grif's or brown like Lopez's, he leaves it alone and it moves back without him having raised his weapon on it.

Nothing happened, so he assumed that it wasn't an enemy and he chose right.

The next target was a helmet that he only vaguely recognized, which was surprising since it had shark-like paint on it, but he thinks he remembers Carolina mentioning fighting some lunatic named Sharkface- ok yeah, it was all clicking together now. He fired the Needler rounds into the figuring and it exploded the same as the other dolls.

Now, there was only one target left, and two rounds left as well, so Tucker was confident that this puzzle was all solved and everyone got to leave it alive thankfully.

But as the helmet approached, he felt some confusion, because that was  _ Church's _ helmet- or, at least, it was the same color.

And then it hit him that there was one difference though, one that he had noticed earlier.

The visor was bright  _ blue. _

With the most apprehension that he's felt this entire puzzle, he lifts up his Needler and fires upon the target. It's a doll, of course, because he's sure he's saved everyone by now, but as it moves back he can't wrap his head over who that helmet could have possibly been from.

The doll explodes, and the lights flickered back on.

Everyone was breathing and still alive, and the floor was absolutely  _ littered with red splatters. _

Tucker freaks out for a minute- just because his friends were alive doesn't mean that they hadn't used  _ real _ people in the place of dolls- but a slightly fruity scent fills his nose, and he has a feeling that while it looks like blood it's not. He hopes.

"Wow, and here I worried you'd be disappointing," ELI clapped. "Well done, you won! As a reward, here's a little light reading for you!"

A book falls from the ceiling, thumping in front of Tucker's feet, and he yelps back, at the unexpected object.

ELI laughs hard at him, and Tucker glares at them, growling, "You're a fucking asshole."

"Hey, enjoy your prize! Well, see you," and ELI went back to being inanimate, going back to the same pose that they were in before they had started the puzzle. Of course, their screen was cracked now.

Tucker some pride in that. Which was kinda sad now that he thought about it.

Looking at everyone, he saw them taking their helmets off, and now he could see who had what.

Caboose was looking heartbroken at Church's helmet, and he hugged it close to his chest, whispering  _ good-bye _ before he placed it back on the chair he was sitting on.

Simmons had Doyle's helmet in his hands, and he looked thoughtful before placing it gently down.

Now, Carolina and Wash on the other hand...

Carolina looked sad as she stared down at the weird tanned colored helmet, and now that the lights were one Tucker could see that it wasn't Grif's or Lopez's. But then she looked up and made eye-contact with him. Then her sadness faded from her face, and she brought the helmet up to her lips to give it a small kiss.

She placed the helmet down and pulled out the lighter again.

_ Oh. _

Wash, thankfully, didn't look sad as he stared down at the helmet, but he did give it a small smile. So he did know who it belonged to.

"I hope you're doing well," he said, as he placed down the helmet. "I miss you guys."

So, it wasn't just him who had his emotions thrown through the wringer. He wished that made him feel a little better, but it didn't.

Going over to the book, he picks it up, grimacing at the wet substance that covered it's back cover.

Looking at the cover, his face dropped at the title, reading aloud to the others,  _ "Seeing Red ('Cause That's A Lot of Blood), _ by R. Ten."

Everyone was silent before  _ Carolina _ of all people spoke up, "They're not even trying to be subtle are they?"

"Not at all," Tucker sighed, handing over the book to Caboose again.

Three down, just two more to go. And they already had the puzzle piece for the Warthog, so that left one last book.

But where could the puzzle clues for that one be? Fuck, they would have to backtrack for that one. Search the rooms over again. So far, the only room that hasn't produced a book was the Bar and the Taxidermy Hall, so either one of those could have it.

The bars had lifted, so they were free to leave the room now.

"Do you guys wanna join us to find the last two books?" Tucker asked, looking back at Carolina and Wash.

Carolina shook her head, "Thanks, but I'm still gonna try a way out of here."

Looking at Wash, the Freelancer shrugged his shoulders saying, "It's better to stay in pairs, you guys go on ahead."

Tucker would try to argue for them to join them, but Carolina looked much calmer than when she had stormed off in the first place, so he was sure that she was much more level-headed now.

"Right, we'll let you know when we have all the books, we'll want everyone together when we place them down in the library," Tucker said.

"Good luck," Wash waved them off, and the three of them headed out of the room.

But as the stepped out of The Hall of Villains, they were stopped in their tracks by an unexpected sight.

There, towards the entrance of the Taxidermy Hall was Doc and-

"Grif?!" Simmons and Tucker blurted out, catching the attention of the tired Red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The puzzle master here is @bloodypoptart on Tumblr and @chaoticpoptart on Instagram! They were cool enough to let me incorporate them into this AU, plus they're an amazing artist so you should definitely check out their art if you haven't.
> 
> And oh geeze, figuring out how to translate the discussions and war of words over was so, so confusing. I'm gonna find a better way to do them for ones that pop up later on, but my biggest struggle was the fact that unlike in the original game, everyone knows and trust (most) everyone else here. I'm hoping I did a well enough job for those who've played the games.
> 
> If you have any questions or would just like to chat, you can find me at my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amatuerscribes (writing)!


	7. The Warthog and the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's wrong with this one," Grif changed the subject pointing at the warthog head.
> 
> "We took the tusks as part of a puzzle," Tucker said, crossing his arms. "But you wouldn't know about any of that considering you were _passed out."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, so sorry for taking so long to update! I got sidetracked by both college and this cartoon fic I've been working on on the side. But I just finished my last final today, and am officially free for the summer! So now I have plenty of time to write! 
> 
> No Beta, never a Beta, I had to bribe my last Beta, why? Because I'm a little shit. Anyways, all mistakes are my own, I hope you all enjoy!

It was like something clicked in Simmons' brain because he was pushing Tucker out of his way to move closer to Grif as if they didn't have a really touching heartfelt moment not even moments prior.

Ah, what the hell, Tucker was concerned too.

Hurrying over just a second after, Grif raised an eyebrow at the two of them, and his lifeless eyes still freaked Tucker out just as much as the first time he saw him before he passed out.

"Sup," he greeted, half-assedly raising a hand in greeting.

"Grif, it's so good to see you up, are you ok?" Simmons asked breathlessly. He wasn't even trying to hide his concern like he normally would have done.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Grif asked, walking past Simmons to head further into the room, looking at all the animal heads with the barest amount of interest.

Wow, talk about cold. Simmons blinked in shock and turned to look at Grif, ignoring the way Doc slid past the two of them to follow after Grif.

"You passed out, in case you don't remember, fatass," Simmons bit out, concern slipping out of his voice, but Tucker knew that Simmons was just frustrated at being blown off.

"I remember," Grif shrugged. "So what?"

"What? I'm not allowed to be concerned over you now?" Simmons scowled.

Grif didn't respond, looking down, before looking back up and answering, "No."

Simmons flinched back, clearly not expecting that response.

"What's wrong with this one," Grif changed the subject pointing at the warthog head.

"We took the tusks as part of a puzzle," Tucker said, crossing his arms. "But you wouldn't know about any of that considering you were  _ passed out." _

"Sounds like work," but there wasn't any emotion in the statement, it was like he was saying it by rote. "Glad I missed out on that."

"Well, we're actually on our way to solve the next one if you want to join us," Simmons offered, but he was tentative as he said it.

Grif glanced at Doc, and Doc gave a little shrug, and firstly when the  _ fuck _ did Grif and Doc get so buddy-buddy? Last Tucker checked, the two of them out of everyone in the group had the most tension and lingering bitterness.

They couldn't have had time to reconcile so soon, especially not in front of other people like Tem-

"Hey, where's Temple?" Tucker pointed out, not comfortable with the idea that the creep was lurking around somewhere.

"He went to join up with the other Blues and Reds!" Doc chimed in, and he looked particularly relieved at that concept. 

"So he's in the Bar," Tucker muttered.

Grif perked up at that, and some face must have flashed on Simmons' face, because he started to scowl saying, "Oh fuck off, I'm not gonna drink any of that crap anyway."

"That's for the best, after having passed out twice you really should be mindful of your health right now," Doc twiddled with his hands, wringing them.

"Killjoy," Grif rolled his eyes, looking back at the warthog head. "What type of puzzle is it anyway? Shoot a live pig?"

"First of all, gross, no," Tucker said, pointing a finger at him. "That's really morbid. Two, we already did the puzzle involving a weapon, so not likely. And lastly, no, the puzzle involves attaching warthog tusks to the Warthog."

Grif tilted his head and asked, "The Warthog?"

Nodding, Tucker elaborated, "There's a holding bay filled with broken vehicles, but the Warthog is missing it's tow hooks. This puzzle is one of the more obvious ones."

And considering the last puzzle, an easy non-mentally straining one was just exactly what Tucker needed right about now.

"And how do you know it's supposed to be a warthog," Grif asked, causing Tucker to furrow his eyebrows.

"Literally what other animal would it be?" Tucker responded.

"Oh, I don't know," Grif gestured to the entire room, walking again until he stopped in front of a feline head. "Maybe a  _ puma's _ teeth or-" and then he walked up to the animal that Tucker had pointed out earlier. "-a walrus'?"

"Grif, don't be ridiculous," Simmons dismissed him. "We literally call the vehicle the Warthog, now's not the time to bring up that debate."

Grif narrowed his eyes, before relaxing his facial expression.

"Whatever," he responded.

And Tucker thought that that would be it, but then Grif reached forward and snapped off one of the tusks on the walrus.

"What are you doing?!" Tucker asked, looking around the room as if he expected some kind of trap to activate for messing with the wrong head.

Grif didn't respond, passing off the tusk to a sickly looking Doc, reaching over for the second tusk and snapping it off too.

"There," Grif said. "Now we can see who's in the right."

"Now you're just being an asshole," Tucker growled at him but rolled his eyes anyhow. Fine, if Grif wanted to be that way, let him. Passing out must have scrambled his head because the Grif from before all this bullshit wouldn't act like such an asshat.

"While I don't really approve of you doing that, I suppose it doesn't hurt to make sure," Doc mumbled, but to who he was speaking to Tucker really didn't give a shit.

"Whatever, let's just get on with the puzzle to prove  _ you _ wrong and us right," Tucker turned around and headed towards the door.

"Before you go, I have to ask, how did you do it," Grif spoke up, stilling Tucker and Simmons from proceeding. Caboose was trailing behind him and bumped into him slightly.

"Do what?" now Tucker was confused. Grif was acting all sorts of weird.

"Not end up shooting each other during the First Trial," Grif said, eyes darkening.

What?

"What are you talking about?" Tucker asked, bewildered and slightly unnerved.

"I was already filled in on how we all had the same First Trial, or at least the two of you did," Grif said, casting a glance towards Doc. But Doc's expression turned sour and he looked away from even Grif. "So how- how did you two fuck-ups not kill each other? There's no possible way that the two of you could know more about each other than my sister knows  _ about me." _

"Grif, our First Trial didn't involve gu-" Tucker started to say before Simmons stepped in front of him.

"That was part of the puzzle," Simmons interrupted. "It was revolved around stuff that we had done together, and- uh, we just got lucky I guess."

Why was Simmons  _ lying _ to Grif? 

Grif's face hardened and he clenched his fists tightly. He wasn't happy with the answer, and anger bleeds onto his face, but given the way he looked down at himself, Tucker had a feeling that it wasn't directed at them.

When it really should be because  _ Simmons was fucking lying. _

"It wasn't easy, Tucker almost died, but it was all ok in the end!" Simmons continued with his bullshit, and Tucker knew that he had no idea what the fuck he was saying considering they still didn't know what actually consisted of the Grif's First Trial. "It was really obviously rigged against us."

"Rigged, right," Grif huffed.

"Yeah, so don't..." Simmons trailed off. "None of this is our fault. Don't blame yourself, blame the people keeping us here."

"Yeah, man," Tucker tackled on. "Blame the fuckers messing with us for their sick enjoyment."

Grif didn't respond, but he did nod and head towards the exit.

Tucker would have turned to follow after him if it wasn't for the scathing look Doc had sent his way.

_ 'Liars,' _ Doc mouthed with ferocity, pushing past them to follow after Grif who had left the room.

"What," Tucker started. "Did you just make me back you up on."

"Do you want him going catatonic on us," Simmons hissed with wide-eyes, but given the way he was rushing his words, Tucker knew he was probably panicking internally.

"If he finds out you lied to him he's never going to forgive you," Tucker informed him.

"He doesn't need to know! Besides, we're past the First Trail anyways!" Simmons chuckled in a hesitant manner. "Right?"

"This dies with us, man," Tucker said. "And Doc. You better hope he doesn't blow the lid on us."

"I won't tell anyone either," Caboose pipped up, looking at Tucker and Simmons. "Not that I know exactly  _ what _ we are talking about, but, ah, that's the way the coin falls."

Shaking his head, Tucker sighed and said, "We better get a move on with the next puzzle. The sooner we're out of here or get a chance to kick the asses of whoever is holding us captive the better."

They joined Doc and Grif out in the hall, and Doc wouldn't even look at them, which stung but then again it was fucking  _ Doc. _

"The Hanger is this way," Simmons said, wanting to move onto a subject far removed from First Trails.

Entering the Hanger, they didn't waste any time with the useless vehicles, instead, they went straight for the Warthog instead. 

Using his only hand, Simmons pulled out one of the Warthog tusks from where he had hooked it into his undersuit.

He crouched down in front of the Warthog and inserted the first tusk into the area where the tow hooks would have been normally.

Nothing happened.

"Maybe it needs both before anything happens," Simmons responded nervously. But he inserted in the second tusk and nothing happened.

Clapping filled the room, and Tucker turned to glare at Grif who was clapping with an unamused look on his face.

"Wow, it's like Grif was right about something for once," he snarked, moving closer to the Warthog and crouching down next to Simmons. "Move, nerd."

Simmons shuffled out of the way, and Doc took his place, producing one of the walrus tusks. Grif took it from him and yanked out one of the warthog tusks and replaced it with the walrus one.

Instantly one of the headlights lit up.

Turning back to give them a smug look, Tucker pursed his lips to avoid curling his lip in annoyance instead. Yeah, yeah, live it fucking up. Wasn't like they had already solved two other puzzles already.

Pulling out the second warthog tusk, he inserted the walrus one, and the hood popped up alongside the blinking second light.

Getting up from his crouch, Grif lifted the hood up the entire way, revealing another novel.

Reaching over to grab it, he looked at it with curiosity, asking, "Is this what you guys have been collecting?"

"Yeah, the note said that we had to find four missing novels," Simmons said, sounding dumbfounded at the way that  _ Grif _ had been the one to solve this puzzle. "We found two others, and knew that this would be our third."

"I'm the librarian!" Caboose chimed, holding out the two other books. "You're books are overdue. You need to pay rent on them."

Grif didn't really respond to anything that they told him, opting to flip through the book with Doc looking over his shoulder.

As Grif closed the cover, Doc readout,  _ "Don't Leave Me Hanging, _ by R. Ten. I've never heard of that author before."

"It's probably just one of the assholes who captured us," Tucker said. "Most of the titles respond to the puzzles that we got them from like the last one mentioned blood and we had to shoot dolls to get it."

"Probably a good thing I wasn't awake for that," Grif said dryly, pushing the book into Caboose's waiting arms.

"So if you have already found three of the missing books, where's the fourth," Doc wondered aloud but didn't direct towards them.

"That's-" Simmons started but deflated. "A good point."

"It's probably in just one of the rooms that we didn't check well enough," Tucker shrugged. "I'm willing to bet the Bar, we did just kind of enter it and leave after getting the lighter. And for all, we know that wasn't even originally part of that room."

"We should head over to look it over again," Simmons concluded.

"You guys should probably come with us," Tucker said. "No use wandering around when we're really close to finishing this whole stupid thing."

"You won't hear me complaining," Grif said, not looking particularly interested.

"Come on, let's go then," Tucker gestured, and they all headed out of the Hanger.

It didn't take that long before they were back in the poster hallway, and while Grif and Doc seemed interesting in looking at them, they didn't waste time doing that and walked into the Bar, expecting to see the Blues and Reds.

Only to find that they weren't there.

"Where the hell did they go?" Tucker exclaimed, glancing around suspiciously. He didn't like this, not one bit.

"Maybe they moved to a different room while we were solving the puzzle?" Simmons suggested, not looking sure of himself.

"They better not be playing around," Tucker grumbled. "I'm not in the mood to deal with turning-against-each-other nonsense like that shit."

"Yeah, I'm sure we'll- hey!" Simmons exclaimed, heading towards the bar. "Who messed with the boards?!"

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked, following after him and looking up. "What's-  _ what the hell!" _

Someone had messily erased off Wash and Carolina's names from the list. 

And Tucker had a good idea of who had done it.

"This is so fucking petty," he hissed, moving to the other side of the counter to get closer to the boards. There was a piece of chalk lying around, and he picked it up with a huff, getting on top of the counter nearest the alcohol. "Like we  _ get it _ you don't trust the Freelancers, but keep that shit to yourself."

He wrote in Carolina's name before scooting over to write in Wash's. His handwriting juxtaposed the neat lettering of the original list, but who gave a shit? Not him that's for sure.

"There we go, that's much better," Tucker stated. He turned to glance down at Doc saying, "Sorry, your name wasn't added originally. Probably because you don't drink  _ or _ because you're purple. Want me to add your name anyhow? Blue Team could use a few more members, look how small we are!"

Before Doc could answer, Grif looked up at him saying, "How about you fucking add Kai's name to the list."

"What? Her name is already-" turning back towards the sign he saw how it was glaringly absent. 

How... how hadn't he  _ noticed that. _

Swallowing harshly, he added Kai's name to the list, pausing slightly after having done so.

Maybe- maybe that was the point? This could have been a puzzle and they hadn't noticed at all, and again if they hadn't had Grif with them,  _ would they have ever figured it out? _

But nothing happened, none of the cabinets opened up, the only thing that looked out of place was an ajar cabinet at the top row middle column, but opening that revealed that there was nothing in it.

"Well, this was a bust," Tucker said awkwardly, looking back at the others, but Grif and Doc were already walking out of the bar, and Simmons was looking down at himself. Caboose was whistling awkwardly.

Oh he had really made an ass out of himself, hadn't he?

Well, what the fuck ever, neither of them noticed  _ either. _

And after that shit that he had said to Carolina. After how much she had been at the back of his thoughts, haunting him like a ghost.

He didn't even  _ notice. _

"I'm gonna take a walk," Tucker announced. Hopping down from the counter, he walked past Simmons and Caboose. "If you guys need me I'll be in the Library."

Walking out of the Bar, he saw Grif and Doc conversing towards the end of the movie hallway, and he noped the fuck out of there before they could even glance at him.

Reentering the Hanger, he considered kicking some of the vehicles to make himself feel better, but ignored them and the temptation as he stalked towards the Library.

Just as he entered the purple lit hallway with the doorway to the Library, a hand reached out from the shadows to press against his chest.

Yelping, and jumping backward, arms raised ready to defend himself he nearly smacked the shit out of Temple who approached from the shadows.

"No need to be so jumpy, Tucker," Temple smiled at him. "Sorry for scaring you."

"You- you asshole! You didn't scare me!" Tucker defended. "What the hell are you lurking around for, where are your other bozo's?"

If Temple was offended by that, he didn't say, but he did gesture towards the Library door, "In there, Loco dragged us here to show me, well, why don't you look for yourself."

And then Temple  _ opened up a door, _ hidden by the shadows to the side.

"What the hell!" Tucker exclaimed, pushing past Temple to enter the room. There was no light in the room, and the only way Tucker could see anything was from the light spilling in from the open door.

But right there, on the desk, was the last novel. And Tucker didn't really think about how there was a small layer of dust on the desk, and that the novel itself had none.

Instead, he approached the desk and picked up the final puzzle piece,  _ The Bargain, _ by R. Ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you feel it guys? Do you know what's gonna happen next? No? Well lemme just spell it out for you: things are gonna get _fun._ Next chapter, we finally meet the first Doll. Yay!
> 
> If you have any questions or would just like to chat you can find me at either of my Tumblr's: @agent-murica (main) and @amateurscribes (writing)!


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